Return To Caprica
by BossaNovaBaby24
Summary: Laura Roslin has a vision. In her vision, a prophet calls for her to return to Caprica. While Laura embarks on a journey back to Caprica to find out what the prophet knows, William Adama and the fleet face another threat, this time from within the fleet.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

**Ok i wrote this sometime ago, but never posted it. I've finally been persuaded to post it by some forceful shoving from certain people .... mainly Mikki *glares at Yahtzie***

**There are certain things i need to stress : This is set sometime after Unfinished Business, but before The Passage. I tried to make sure it didn't effect the actual storyline at all. In this story, Saul Tigh is back in CIC already, so just ignore the fact that he's not meant to be just yet! There are probably a hell of a lot more things that don't fit in with the actual BSG timeline, but try and enjoy it for what it is! **

**Disclaimer**

**You all know the drill, i don't own any of the BSG characters, locations etc. etc. They all belong to RDM et al. YOU ROCK RDM!**

_The woman sat, her legs crossed beneath her, on the hard stone floor. Ruins lay around her, unruly vines wrapping themselves around, creeping upwards. It was dark, cold, desolate. She was the only one there, poised and calm as she looked at her surroundings. The only sound that greeted her was the soft whisper of the wind as it slowly travelled through the derelict building. It did not happen often, but when it did, the building seemed to sway with it. The woman glanced slowly to her right, her eyes dulled, taking in the crumbling stone patterns of the walls, the worn writing that once stood out, calling at people, drawing their attention. Gone. With the rest of the city. Gone. With the rest of the planet. Gone. With the rest of the colonies. Yet she sat, palms outstretched, unnoticed amidst the fallen columns around her. It would only be a matter of time before the Centurion made its rounds past the museum. Clockwork. Once every hour, the thuds of their metal feet would echo through the lobby, indicating that she should leave. She never did though. She never would. They seemed to accept that. They left her to her own devices. She left them. It was the perfect relationship. Cylon and human cooperated, ignoring each other studiously. Neither were doing any direct harm to each other. The war was over, no reason to start a fight over nothing._

_The woman's head suddenly snapped up, her eyes searching the remains of the floor above her. Where she sat seemed insignificant to anyone who passed by (always cylons, mostly metal but sometimes the human form), but to her it was of great importance. Dried blood decorated the stone in front. Not her own. Yet the blood was special. It was both human and cylon. Neither distinguishable from the other, but she knew that there were two types. She knew what had transpired in that spot. The bodies had gone, one walking away, the other mournfully dragged. This was the spot. A woman, wild with courage and belief, had taken a sacred object, had pulled a human cylon over the edge, into the abyss below. She could see it in her mind. Blonde hair, golden arrow, death. Throwing them both over the ledge, the human woman had secured her landing by pulling the cylon woman below her, to absorb the impact. Ingenious really. It was quite some time ago, yet the memories did not vanish, did not dull with time like the building. Instead they grew more vivid every time she saw them. But now, something else was drawing her attention. There was something else here. Something more alive. The woman slowly, almost reverently, drew beads from her pocket, placing them carefully in front of her. Twelve beads, twelve colonies. Placing them in a circle, the face of a clock, she let her hands find her knees, resting them palm upwards to the floor above. Daylight was fast approaching but she did not care. _

_"I know you're there," she called out, her words echoing around the empty space. The wind died immediately, leaving hot and heavy air surrounding her, dust floating, reluctant to settle to the ground. She did not care. _

_"Everyone comes to me. They ask questions. They want answers. Yet you are different."_

_No voice greeted her words. Nor did she expect any. She could feel the presence, floating above her, confused, vulnerable. _

_"You want answers to questions you have not yet thought to ask."_

_The presence drew nearer, eager to hear out what the woman had to say. She, in turn, lightly touched the tattered shawl that pulled her hair out of her face. The presence was strong, yet she knew it would not last long. It had a lifeline, a bitter tang of mortality. Whether it was aware of its impending doom, she did not know._

_"You are seeking knowledge, you want to do right yet you are drowning in the current of turmoil. People look to you for advice, for hope. You are torn. Come to me and you will know the truth. Come to me," she stated, her eyes seeking out the aura that encased her, "come to me and you will know peace. You will know your future, you will know the future of your people."_

_The presence was fading rapidly, a victim to consciousness. The woman called out one last time, valiantly trying to stop the presence from leaving without it knowing that what had transpired here was true. _

_"Come to me and you will know the truth, Laura Roslin."_

…

Laura Roslin gasped, her eyes flickering open. Darkness greeted her, shadowing her shocked expression. With one hand, she slowly wiped her face, feeling a cold sweat cling to it. She lay there, taking in what had just happened. She had been somewhere, stone and wayward plants greeting her. A woman had sat, symbolic items - beads maybe - spread out before her, speaking to the broken floor above. To _her _in fact. But she was never there, not physically. Laura shook her head slightly, breathing into the pillow, needing the reassuring physical scent of Colonial One. The chairs beneath her were narrow, not allowing her full freedom of movement. The Colonial One was not built to be a presidential ship, but Laura didn't mind. She was one of the lucky few who was able to sleep at least somewhere semi-comfortable. Her desk was enough to signify the amount of power she wielded. She didn't need a luxurious bed.

Suddenly, a flash of light shone on her face, and Laura automatically squinted, her hand drawing up and her head moving away from the source of the sudden interruption.

"Madam President, is everything alright?"

Tory Foster, Laura's aide, was holding back the curtain that separated Laura's quarters from the rest of the ship. Laura reluctantly looked over, her eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness in the room. Sometimes she wondered if Tory ever slept, as every time something happened the experienced aide would come running, alert for anything.

"I heard you say something-"

"-Thank you Tory, for your concern, I am fine. I just found an uncomfortable position on the chairs, that is all."

Tory looked at Laura, obvious disbelief etched on her face. Laura could sense the inner turmoil between obedience to her superior and concern about her friend. Reluctantly, Tory slowly drew the curtain back across, encasing Laura once more in darkness. With a sigh of relief, she pulled her blanket up to her chin, wanting nothing more than to fall soundly back asleep. She closed her eyes slowly, but sleep would not come. The dream she had before was content to slowly torture her, playing back in her mind, every time a bit of detail slipping away like water cupped in her hands.

She needed to sort the dream out and fast, or else she would be getting no sleep.

_There was a building, made of stone, time wearing it away slowly. But surely time couldn't destroy the building to that extent? Something else maybe? A nuclear explosion!_

Of course! Laura frowned, knowing that it did nothing to reduce the amount of buildings that had been targeted by that exact thing. Twelve colonies to view. Somehow, however, the building seemed familiar to her, lurking in the back of her mind. She had maybe passed it a dozen times, not taking time out to thoroughly see it. She hadn't been to many colonies, which narrowed it down further.

The signs in the building, she saw that they were worn, cases covered in layers of dust, wanting nothing more than to be seen. It was a public building, she had no doubt about that. The woman in her dream had sat facing something on the floor. Laura remembered the woman's thoughts, flooding back into her own mind with startling clarity. Blood. The blood of human and cylon combined. Something had happened there. Laura felt a strange connection, a ribbon wrapping around her, tying her to this event.

What could she possibly have wanted from the building? Who had she sent on mission for her, to retrieve something, obviously special from the-

_The Arrow Of Apollo._

"Delphi Museum," Laura spoke out, the sudden knowledge surging into her mind. There was a woman in Delphi Museum, amidst the Cylons. She knew things that Laura didn't. Things that Laura yearned to know. She was calling to her, unconsciously urging her to return. Return to the destroyed planet that had once been her home.

_"Come to me and you will know the truth, Laura Roslin."_

Laura closed her eyes, taking in the words that rang through her mind. She needed to know what this woman knew. Something about her, something about the fleet. What if it was something important? Something that could be prevented? Laura mulled over the prospect, knowing that she would hate to lead the fleet blindly into an ambush. The dangers of returning, however, also battled for dominance in the forefront of her mind.

She was crazy for even thinking about returning, for even considering to return to that wretched, cylon-ridden planet. Yet something pulled and tugged at her, and Laura couldn't quash that feeling either. With a strangled sigh, Laura tried valiantly to wipe the thoughts from her head but failed, falling into a fitful sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Admiral William Adama looked at her, his eyes piercing, searching for any hint of humour in what the President had just said. Surely she was joking? They had just finished dinner, chatting amiably about fleet business over a few glasses of Ambrosia. Maybe it was the Ambrosia that had made her say it? Alcohol can do that sort of thing, make a person say things they didn't mean, make them want to go places they didn't want to go.

"I'm serious," Laura assured him, a sparkle in her emerald eyes as she regarded the expression set on his face. It was similar to the one Tory wore the night before when Laura told her that she was alright. Absolute, raw disbelief.

The admiral picked up his glass, downing the contents in one swift movement, before returning the glass to the table in front. He had invited her over for dinner, knowing full well that sometimes she got so caught up in her duties that she was forgetting the most important things, such as eating. Usually they would have said their goodnights at this point, but for some reason Bill decided to offer a glass of alcohol instead and she had accepted. That was an hour ago.

"You've had too much alcohol, Madam President," Bill stated, his eyes never leaving Laura's face. She in turn stared right back, challenging him to override her, to refuse her wishes.

"Let's look at the big picture here, Bill."

"You want to travel back to a radioactive planet filled with cylons so you can talk to some woman who is probably nearly dead now anyway?"

Laura smiled and looked away, fixating her gaze over his shoulder.

"Ok," she replied, the corners of her mouth fixed upwards in a tight smile, "Let me tell you how it is."

"I had a dream last night, but it wasn't just any dream. I was there, in Delphi Museum on Caprica. I could see her, alive as you or me. She knew I was there, she knew my name. She said that she could tell me things, about my future, yes, but also about the future of the fleet."

"We make our own future, Laura, she can't possibly predict what it going to happen."

"This is a matter of fleet security. If there is a chance that she could prevent something dangerous happening, such as an ambush by the cylons, then we should take that chance. I'm going to see her."

"No you're not. It's too dangerous. I wouldn't willingly send anyone out there, least of all the President of the Twelve frakking Colonies."

Laura just shook her head, red tendrils of hair falling in front of her face. He refused to understand.

"You're so stubborn," she retorted calmly, her hands toying with the glass of Ambrosia in front, "I need to see her. I need to know these things."

"You're not going."

Laura raised her eyebrows, the smile dropping from her face.

"Is that an order?"

Bill remained silent, regarding the woman in front of him. She seemed determined, unwilling to give any ground on the matter. He knew he wasn't going to win this battle without once again throwing her in the brig, and the fleet were still suffering from the effects of the last time that had occurred.

"Laura," his voice was low, pleading with her on a personal level. Laura squirmed slightly at the worry in his voice, "please don't do this."

"I have to. I can't let this go, Bill, I need to know."

Silence reigned as both of them absorbed what was said. Bill knew he had lost, and he felt his chest constrict for some unknown reason at the thought of Laura going back to the planet.

"Ok, Madam President. If you are that sure on going then I can't stop you. We'll commandeer a raptor and enough fuel to get us there and back while the rest of the fleet-"

"-We?"

Laura looked at him, eyes narrowed in confusion.

"You're not going there on your own."

"I'll find some assistance then. You're the Admiral of the fleet, you're not going down there-"

"-you're the President, what's the difference-"

"-Bill, this fleet needs a leader and Military leadership would be best. The Quorum and my vice-president will be more than enough to balance out the military and civilian government."

The admiral glared at her, his hand constricting around his glass.

"I'm not co-operating with Tom Zarek."

"Somehow I knew you were going to say that. Think of it as a temporary thing, while I'm gone."

"I still don't like this idea, Laura."

"I know, but you've got to understand; I'm not changing my mind. I have to do this. Please understand me, trust me on this one."

Adama sighed, his hand releasing the glass.

"I trust you, but I need more than that. I want to handpick the crew."

"I would like to be the one to fill them in, I don't want anyone forced into this. Strictly voluntary, Bill."

"Rest assured Madam President, I wouldn't force this task on anyone. Let's just hope the crew are feeling nostalgic."

Laura smiled, her eyes glittering.

"Yes, let's."

....

"You're frakking kidding me."

"'fraid not, Starbuck. He called about five minutes ago requesting you."

Kara groaned, biting back a remark. She had just finished her rotation, eager to hit the showers then hit her rack. She was damned tired, having been in the cockpit for what seemed like forever. She had easily totalled ten hours. Rubbing her shoulder wearily, Kara looked at Chief Tyrol with suppressed annoyance. He was smug, a smile playing around his lips. He usually was when it came to Kara being called into the Admiral's quarters. It meant that she had done something wrong, _again. _Withthe amount of broken birds that Kara had managed to bring back, Tyrol took a small amount of pleasure in watching the cocky pilot fret.

"I will be back ASAP, don't let anyone book in for the showers before me!" Kara said hurriedly, walking quickly towards the door of the hangar bay.

"Of course not, sir." Tyrol saluted to her back as she exited through the hatch.

"Chief, fill this out for me. I want to get my name down first for showers," Racetrack called out from a few feet behind him, walking away from her landed Raptor.

"Yessir." He smiled once again, slowly meandering over. Starbuck's shower could wait. Maybe until she learnt to fly a Viper home in one piece.

"Man, she'd stink up the place first." Tyrol smirked, picking up a pen and proceeding to fill in the forms for Racetrack.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sir?"

Kara slowly pushed the hatch open, unsure as to whether she was welcome. The hatch to his quarters was open often enough, but with Admiral Adama, you never knew whether to wait or to boldly walk in. She settled for cautiously entering the quarters, her hand firmly on the door in case he changed his mind.

"Kara." The voice came from the attached room, where she knew his desk was. With ease, she walked forwards, past the leather couch, the armchairs, the empty glasses on the table, on towards where his voice had just emanated from.

She found him sat at his desk, glasses pushed to the side, along with maps, coordinates, fuel reports. Was he planning their next jump on the road to 'earth'?

Adama didn't even glance up to acknowledge that it was in fact her, his eyes steady on the paper before him. His hand swept across the page, ticking and signing at regular intervals. There were moments when Kara was glad she was not in a higher job. She couldn't handle the bureaucracy and paperwork. She was a natural fighter, preferring to solve quarrels with the fist rather than the brain.

"What do ya hear, Starbuck?"

"Nothing but the rain, sir," Kara replied, standing smartly before him.

"Then grab your gun and bring the cat in."

"Boom boom." She smiled, knowing that she wasn't in any big trouble. Adama would never have used that traditional code with her if she was about to be warned for something.

"I need your help," he stated, without looking up.

"Anything sir." She meant it. She would travel to the centre of the sun for the man in front of her. He was a father to her, a man who supported her when times were bad, when Zak had died.

"The," he began, now looking up. Kara could see he was tired, his eyes showing his experience, his age, "President of the Twelve Colonies wants to return to Caprica."

Kara's posture stiffened imperceptibly, yet Adama still picked up on it.

"This is strictly a voluntary mission, but I need pilots I can trust. I can't let her go on her own. I need someone down there with their head on straight."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Kara's voice was calm, constrained.

"Permission granted."

"She's frakking nuts."

The admiral let out a long, even breath, his gaze falling to the paper before him. At that moment, there was no edge, no steely comeback, not even a rebuke.

"She believes that there is a woman down there. This woman can tell her about the future of this fleet."

"And if she is wrong?"

Silence. He was tired, too tired for all this. He didn't want Laura to go down there. She was the president of the colonies, she meant too much to the fleet, too much to him-

"Then we're all well and truly screwed."

Kara didn't reply, just looking straight ahead solemnly.

"You can probably guess the reason I have called you here."

"You're ordering me to return to that planet, with the President?"

"I'm not ordering anyone, but I need someone who knows what to expect. Someone who I know will protect the President at all costs. Most of all, I need someone with the right attitude for the job."

"You're asking me to risk certain death of both me and the President, sir."

"She won't be swayed. She'll go down there, with or without a crew."

"I've been down there twice now. It doesn't get any easier, sir. In fact, it get's harder."

"The woman is residing in Delphi Museum."

"If she's alive at all."

"The President is confident that the woman is alive."

Kara put her hands up, gesturing surrender.

"Ok, I'll go. I'm probably the only one who has been there enough times to know what to expect. Most likely there will still be Cylons down there so i'm expecting toasters and skinjobs, fights, running for our lives. Just another trip, eh sir?"

Adama smiled sadly, standing up. When he reached his full height, he looked Kara directly in the eyes.

"You're dismissed, Starbuck."

Kara returned the salute, placing particular emphasis in bringing her hand away from her forehead.

"Sir." With that, she turned around and moved back towards the adjoining room, ready to leave.

"Kara?"

His voice pulled her to a stop. It was a mixture of pain and fatigue, a combination that Kara really did not like to hear in the Old Man's voice. She turned around, waiting for him to speak, standing straight.

"There _will_ be cylons down there. Protect her. Protect yourself. I want to see you both back in one piece."

With a swift nod, Kara turned around and walked out of sight, tears stinging her eyes.

....

_She looked up at the floor above her, eyes fixated on the empty air. She could feel the presence again, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. There was a sense of peace emanating from it, along with a certain urgency. It was going to be coming to her soon._

_"I await you eagerly, Laura Roslin," she called out, her attention focused on the changing aura._

_It disappeared._

....

"Madam President, Admiral Adama is on the line." Tory poked her head through the curtain quickly, signalling to the phone by the President's side.

"Thank you Tory," Laura exhaled, hoping that the aide would not notice her dishevelled appearance, the sweat beading down her forehead, the haunted look in her eyes, "that will be all."

Tory must have sensed something, for she kept her head there for a second longer than necessary before Laura heard the swish of the curtain and was once more left in darkness, with nothing but the clicking heels of her aide to keep her company. With a shaky sigh, she reached out for the phone, wincing slightly as she heard static emanating from it.

_"Madam President, I hope I haven't woken you up?"_

Laura glanced at the clock overhead. _3:15am._

"At quarter past three in the morning? I was just entertaining the Quorum."

She could sense his smile at her remark.

"What can I do for you, Admiral?" She was desperate to get off the phone and get back to sleep, but somehow clung to the conversation in her ear. His voice was warm, reassuring. She didn't want to hang up.

_"Kara Thrace is willing to go with you down to Caprica. She knows the terrain, what you are likely to face, and most of all, she knows escape routes and her way around the Delphi Museum."_

Laura smiled as he informed her. He really was being thorough. _The Admiral must make sure that the President comes back in one piece. He wouldn't want Martial Law again, not after last time._

"Thank you Admiral. Kara Thrace will be invaluable on this trip."

_"I've also managed to rope in Athena, Racetrack, Helo and Burgundy."_

"A colourful call sign."

_"He's a good kid, does what he's told. He's also got a good aim."_

"Sounds like a good crew member. He volunteered?"

_"Overheard me asking Racetrack. He was more than eager. Guess he wants to see his home one last time before it's gone completely."_

"Can't say I blame him."

_"You can use Racetrack's raptor. Everything is set, Madam President. It's all down to your orders now."_

"Have them ready for this time tomorrow."

_"I can't at all convince you that this is a bad idea?"_

"You could try, but your chances do not look good."

Laura heard Bill let out a chuckle, before sighing down the phone line.

_"You seem awfully awake for this time in the morning, Laura."_

"Presidents never sleep. Too much going on for them to close their eyes for one minute."

_"What's the worst that could happen if you close your eyes for one second?"_

"Your entire homeworld could be destroyed."

Laura heard static as Bill processed what she had said. He came back to the phone, his voice now laced with seriousness.

_"You should rest, Madam President. You've got a busy day ahead of you tomorrow."_

Laura laughed lightly, "Don't remind me." Suddenly, she felt her chest constrict and her throat burned. She coughed once, twice, then many more times. Pain racked her chest as she did so, and she valiantly tried to stop. Over her coughing fit, she could hear Bill's voice on the phone; _"Madam President? Are you alright?"_

"Fine," she gasped down the phone, breathing in huge lungfuls of air as she regained control of her body, "just coughing...Seems like...even the dead of space can't...stop you from catching...a cold."

_"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Laura. Have a good sleep."_

"You too, Bill."


	4. Chapter 4

Kara Thrace paced about the Hangar Deck, her lip caught between her teeth. Any crew member that walked past assumed that the young pilot was waiting to go out on CAP, but anyone who looked closer would have realised that her eyes gave away more than just worrying about her patrol.

"Starbuck, if you pace anymore, I'm gonna be sick," Helo said suddenly, watching Kara walk around with mild concern. It wasn't like her to be worried. Helo and Starbuck had been through a lot, including a long visit to Caprica already. He knew how much Kara hated the idea of going back. Twice was more than enough.

"Let her pace, Helo, it keeps her quiet." Athena gave a weak smile as she said it, hoping to diffuse the tension in the air. She was, like Kara and Karl, reluctant to leave Galactica and wanted nothing more than to go back to the quarters she shared with Helo.

"There you all are."

Helo, Starbuck, Athena, Racetrack and a very nervous Burgundy all spun around, staring straight at Lee Adama as he slowly walked up to them. He was carrying a clipboard in front of him, while rubbing his neck with his free hand. It had been weeks since the "dance", but he still ached all over.

"I'm sure you've been completely filled in on the mission. The President will be along shortly. I just wanted to say that you are all good crew members, strong and willing to-"

"-save the eulogy for now, Apollo," Starbuck interrupted, zipping up her flight suit, "we're still here."

Lee fell silent, contemplating her. She obviously didn't want to go back there, and he felt a pang of sympathy.

"No eulogies, I expect you back here in one piece ASAP because you're really draining the CAP rota. I need pilots, so no heroics, Starbuck."

"Aye aye sir." Starbuck forced a smile, saluting him.

"Good luck to you all, I hope to see you soon. Good hunting."

With that, Lee turned around and walked the way he came, kneading his neck harder. As he walked away, he passed Laura Roslin, greeting her with a hurried "Madam President".

Laura nodded, smiling, before carrying on walking. Her hand was encased in Admiral Adama's arm as he courteously led her towards the awaiting raptor. He was really pulling out all the stops to show his respect towards her, guiding her there personally and talking amiably as they went. It was almost as if he felt something more for her-

Don't. Go. There.

He was merely being polite, showing her to her raptor. No-one knew who to trust these days, he was making sure she got there in one piece. With a smile of gratitude, she pulled her hand out of his grip, looking towards her crew. It was strange saying that in her head, she realised. _Her crew. _Adama reluctantly released her hand, missing the warmth of her by his side. His expression was inscrutable, however, as he looked towards her. Her eyes shone as she looked towards Starbuck and the rest of the crew. He smiled inwardly. She was probably laughing at the thought of being in command of her own little crew.

"Admiral." Laura turned towards him, holding her hand out towards him. He gripped it firmly, not wanting to let go.

"Madam President," he replied, slowly putting pressure on her hand, a reassuring squeeze. She looked at him questioningly, scrutinising what was going on. Clearing his throat, he slowly dropped contact between their hands, clasping his own and placing them in front of him, "You're ready to go."

"Don't look so glum, Admiral, I'll be back soon enough."

"Every day that you're gone will be a day that I'll have to put up with the Quorum."

"And here I was thinking there wasn't an upside to this trip." Her lips curled upwards into a slight smile. It was only small, but it was genuine and Adama felt himself returning the smile.

"I hope to see you soon, Laura."

"I assure you, you will."

With that, the President walked towards Starbuck, who looked a lot calmer, studying the two leaders of the fleet. She did not say a word, however, instead saluting the Admiral before moving to get aboard the Raptor. Athena and Helo followed suit, as did Racetrack and Burgundy. As the Raptor door slowly came down, he caught a glimpse of Laura Roslin one last time, smoothing her suit as she sat down at the back of the Raptor. Racetrack moved to the forefront of the Raptor, sitting alert in the pilot seat with Athena at her side. Helo took the ECO's chair and Burgundy and Starbuck accompanied Laura at the back. With one last glance at the closed Raptor, Adama sighed and turned around.

_This was going to be a long week._

....

_"Galactica, this is Racetrack requesting permission to leave the nest."_

Adama gave Petty Officer Dualla a short nod, indicating that he approved. Her eyes didn't leave the Admiral as she replied into her earpiece.

"Racetrack, this is Galactica. You are cleared to leave the nest. I repeat, you are cleared to leave the nest. See you soon."

_"You bet, Racetrack out."_

Communications with the raptor cut out as they watched it disappear from dradis. Adama's expression was blank as he gazed at the space where the dot previously flickered on the screen. Tigh glanced around at the crew, who were busily performing their duties. He rubbed his stubbled jaw, sighing quietly. He had been called to CIC to watch over the ship while Adama exchanged short goodbyes with the departing raptor crew. Saul Tigh had felt relief surge through him when he heard his phone buzzing, with Gaeta on the other end requesting his presence. Dreams of Ellen had become more vivid, him sitting with her, drinking, sharing quiet moments. There were dreams when he would be merely wandering through the market on New Caprica with her, discussing anything from the climate to Gaius frakkin' Baltar. Tigh couldn't escape from them, the lost love slowly permeating his dreams as well as his waking thoughts. CIC always helped him keep a clear head, knowing that he was there to make hard, fast decisions, focused reasoning and arguments.

Glancing subtly at Bill's expression told Tigh that he would need to have his head in the game today, so at least one of them did.

"Sure is quiet today," Tigh muttered, his one eye staring hawkishly at the crew. The XO wasn't doing his job if the crew didn't fear and loathe him. Tigh kept this thought in mind as he watched the CIC members do their jobs.

"Don't get comfortable," Adama murmured in reply, his gaze tearing reluctantly away from dradis to fixate upon Tigh's face. His gaze was steely and hard, not giving anything away, "it's what they want us to do."

"They?"

"Sir! Vice-President Tom Zarek is on the line. He is requesting a meeting in the ward room. What should I tell him?" Dee interrupted the conversation between the two men, waiting patiently for an answer.

Adama let out a long breath, considering his options. As much as Laura Roslin wanted him to, Adama wasn't going to co-operate with Tom Zarek, and meeting with him was last on his list of things to do before he died, right after actually dying. He was saved from having to make a decision, however, when Gaeta spun around in his chair, alert.

"Sir! It looks like _The Pandora _has moved away from its current trajectory!"

"Confirm that!" Tigh barked, glaring at the lieutenant, "do your frakking job! Has it or has it not moved from its current trajectory!?"

Gaeta scowled slightly, but hurriedly looked towards his screen, his fingers dancing along the keyboard in front.

"Confirmed, sir! It's veering off to the left! If it followed its current course then it could ..."

"Could what?" Adama asked urgently, although a lead feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that he knew what was coming.

"It is heading for the Galactica, sir. ETA is twenty minutes."


	5. Chapter 5

"Galactica actual, this is Apollo."

Lee craned his neck to look at the ship that floated beside him. It was lazily pushing forwards, narrowly avoiding the ships floating around it.

_"Apollo, this is Galactica Actual. What do you see?" _Admiral Adama's voice greeted him.

"It's dark in there. I can't see anyone." He strained to see more through the tiny windows that barely littered the ship's side. It was if all the lights had been turned out and it had been abandoned. _The Pandora _was one of their smallest tylium refinery ships, not a huge loss, but a substantial one all the same.

_"That ship holds 278 souls. You're telling me that you can't see one single person?" _Adama's voice crackled through in front of Apollo, a steely edge in his tone.

"Confirmed Admiral," Apollo replied, positioning his viper closer to the ship in question, "Not a soul that can be seen."

_"Apollo this is Galactica," _Dee's voice greeted his ears, _"fire warning shots across its bow. I repeat, fire warning shots across its bow."_

Lee closed his eyes, feeling a strong sense of Déjà Vu. This was the exact same situation as the Olympic Carrier, he realised. This time, however, there was no nuclear threat and he decided that he would refuse outright if asked to blow it up.

"Aye, sir. Commencing warning shots now."

_"Clear your throat, Apollo."_

He smiled at the phrase, indicating for him to fire the ship's guns. He pushed in the button on his ship's stick, and was in turn greeted with red hot ammunition whipping through space and narrowly missing contact with the ship. This kind of military manoeuvre would usually prove useful, putting off ships and their crew, showing them that the military were not afraid to use violent tactics to stop them. The blasts of the guns fell on deaf ears, though, and Apollo's eyes widened slightly as the ship carried on, studiously ignoring his warning shots.

"Galactica, Apollo. They're refusing to stop. Request instructions."

There came no reply. Apollo sat impatiently, feeling useless as the ship drew ever closer to the Battlestar.

....

"Mr Gaeta," Adama stated, his expression hard, "Fire up main batteries and target _The Pandora._"

"Aye sir." Gaeta spun back around, doing as instructed.

"Dee," he turned around, looking towards the eager young woman, "Tell Apollo to assume attack formation."

"Yessir."

"We need to shoot it down right now," Tigh said, his back straight, his chin up.

"Probably," came Adama's reply, "but something here isn't right."

A sudden boom echoed throughout the Battlestar, rocking it slightly. Crew members were pushed from their chairs by a strong force. Adama stumbled but was caught by Tigh who hauled the Admiral back up on his feet.

"Sitrep!" Tigh roared, looking around at the flickering lights in CIC. Gaeta pushed himself up off of the floor and back into his chair, his eyes frantically reading information as it scrolled up on the screen.

"We've been boarded sir!" he shouted, looking towards the two leaders for instructions. Adama calmly adjusted his glasses on his nose, before placing his hands on the Dradis console in front. He rubbed his wedding ring against his middle finger, toying with it, spinning it slowly around.

"How the _frak _did this manage to slip by us!?" Tigh barked. He looked around, his eyes burning with accusation, his jaw quivering from the effort to hold in the potential outpour of insults.

"Lieutenant Gaeta," Adama called, one of his eyebrows raised questioningly, "I need details."

"It would seem that-"

"It would seem!?" Tigh scoffed, looking around, "Oh it would _seem_! I see! We want facts, Gaeta, not a hypothesis!"

Gaeta took a deep breath, feeling his anger for the XO rise considerably.

"_The Pandora _was a decoy, sir. While we were busy assessing and counteracting the threat posed by the tylium refinery ship, five individual small vessels managed to forcefully dock without permission."

Adama winced slightly.

"Five small vessels?"

"Yessir."

"Cylons or humans?"

"It's hard to tell, sir. With no evidence to support a Cylon boarding party, I'd assume human. That way they wouldn't show up on Dradis as unknown contacts, rather five separate civilian ships."

"The chances of cylons being aboard the civilian ships already?" Adama didn't want to, but _had _to entertain the idea that humans were working with the Cylons to sabotage the Galactica.

"Highly unlikely sir. The ships within the fleet are regularly patrolled in search of any known cylon models. Last patrol was one day ago."

"Thank you Mister Gaeta." Adama turned slowly back towards the centre of CIC, his gaze flickering briefly to his XO's face. The same expression reflected from his. The same questions ran through both of their minds. Who were these people and what the frak did they want?

....

"Can I offer you a drink, Madam President?" Burgundy asked Laura Roslin, his brow furrowed in concern. The president held her hands over her mouth, her body wracking with every cough that escaped. Her throat was raw, and she found her voice was weaker than she would have liked when answering anyone.

"Ambrosia ... would be nice," she whispered, her breathing short and shallow.

Burgundy raised his eyebrows, wondering what to do. They didn't carry alcohol with them on a raptor, especially on a mission. He couldn't deny the President what she wanted though, especially when his offer was so vague. He had assumed she would ask for water or refuse any beverages.

Laura could see the worry in the young pilot's eyes and the conflict. She smiled faintly, her eyes closing and her head resting against the bulkhead behind her.

"I was joking," she said faintly, and could have laughed when she heard the long sigh of relief from Burgundy. The coughing fit had died down, but Laura felt the stinging in her chest remain. She had always been resilient to colds, so it came as a surprise to her when she first noticed the symptoms of it.

She let out a small noise, trying to clear her throat but it did not go unnoticed by Starbuck. She sat in the back with Burgundy, opposite the President. She pulled the medkit from behind her onto her lap, searching through the contents. After pulling out a dozen bandages and several shots of morpha, she found a small bag at the bottom. She applied force to both ends of the bag, causing it to make a loud snapping sound.

"Here, you look flushed." She casually threw it to the President, who barely caught it. Her arms felt like lead, but she soon forgot as the sensation that emanated from the bag surprised her. It was cool, contrasting perfectly with her hot skin. She placed it on her forehead, and sighed in relief. Starbuck turned to the two up front.

"When's our next jump?"

"Our next jump is set for one minute. You ready, Athena?"

Athena lifted her arm, indicating she was ready. Hanging securely from her arm was a long tube, connecting the inside of her arm to a machine in the back of the raptor. Just like the last time, she was using her unique cylon identity to help them coordinate their jumps, cutting the amount they needed down drastically.

"All ready, Racetrack," Athena replied, turning her head slightly, "flick the switch back there and let's get this raptor closer to home."

The last sentence was greeted with a sentimental silence as everyone thought back to the colonies; their old home.

Helo clicked the switch, giving a silent thumbs up to Racetrack. Laura Roslin's eyes opened slowly, watching the interactions between the people with her. They trusted each other, they respected each other. She felt better knowing this, that the crew before her would protect each other and would protect her as well.

"Jumping in three."

Laura closed her eyes again. She was used to the constant jump sequences, but it still made her feel uncomfortable.

"Two."

They would be there soon. She would find out the truth, the future, the way to Earth. This woman in her visions knew something and Laura wanted to know what.

"One. Jump."

The raptor vanished.


	6. Chapter 6

Colonel Tigh stalked the corridors, accompanied by several marines, their guns loaded and trained on the area in front of them.

"Keep alert, keep loaded and for fraks sake keep your finger _off _the trigger unless there is a clear threat!" he ordered, marching round a corner, down another corridor. As he walked hurriedly past a hatch, it opened slowly. Tigh stopped, his hand signalling the marines to look in the direction of the distraction. They huddled around, their breathing measured as their gun's aims rested on the hatch. A man appeared, his hands slowly moving up over his head. Tigh looked at the name on the hatch.

_Ward Room._

He rubbed his jaw, turning away from the man.

"Frak me," he muttered, although he was inwardly relieved. Tom Zarek stood, his hands on his head. He smiled crookedly, his eyes shining with arrogance and amusement.

"I knew you hated me, Colonel, but I was sure that my title implied that I shouldn't have to face the firing squad without civilian representation," he said smoothly, looking straight at Tigh. The XO resisted pulling out his sidearm and taking the frakker out, but only barely. He clenched his jaw and kept his chin up, not letting the man in front think he was anything special.

"What the frak do you think you're doing here, Zarek?"

"I asked for a meeting with our esteemed Admiral Adama. It would seem he is late."

"He doesn't have time to be frakking arguing in circles with you right now. We've been boarded."

"He has time to argue with President Roslin but never me- Boarded?" Tom looked flustered, and Tigh felt a smug sense of satisfaction that he knew something the 'esteemed' Vice-President didn't.

"Boarded. Now you are more than welcome to run around and get shot, hell it might save one of my more useful men if you do. However, it pains me to recommend you get your ass out of this corridor!"

Zarek didn't reply, just looked down the corridor to his right. Tigh looked in the same direction, as did his marines. A faint tapping sound slowly drew closer, alerting them. A small object, cylinder in shape, rattled as it rolled around the corner at the end of the corridor. Zarek squinted, trying to figure out what it was.

"What the frak is-"

"Get down!"

Tigh tackled Zarek to the ground, and all the marines shielded their heads as the explosion resounded.

....

The lights flickered and the computers jolted.

"Sitrep!" Adama shouted, gripping the console and glancing at Felix Gaeta. The rumbling was felt throughout CIC and red lights flashed.

"Decompression on deck C, sir! Possibly caused by an explosive!"

"An explosive?" Adama asked, his expression once more a stone wall, "We're dealing with a serious threat then."

"Sir!" Dee called, capturing the Admiral's attention, "numerous reports have come in of armed groups aboard the Galactica. They're attacking military only, sir."

Adama's jaw clenched and he let out a low breath, his head hanging.

"I want them all located. I want teams of marines dispatched to neutralize each threat. I don't want their grievances, I want them gone."

....

Tigh sat down, clasping his arm. They were sealed in the Ward Room, the hatch secured. It had been a close call. Two marines dead, one dying. After the initial explosion, Tigh wasted no time in quickly crawling into the closest room to them; the ward room. Zarek, catching on, also moved quickly into the room, followed by the marines. Tigh had turned around and that was when he spotted two marines, lying on the metal floor just outside the hatch. The last marine was pushing the hatch closed as quickly as he could, but it wasn't enough. A loud creaking emanated and Tigh wondered briefly whether the ship was going to implode. The marine at the door started to choke, falling forwards onto the hatch, which slammed shut with a loud 'clang'. Tigh strode quickly over to the fallen marine and noticed the symptoms. The blue lips, the choking, bloodshot eyes. The force of the grenade must have caused some sort of hole in the ship, causing major decompression. While they were safe in the Ward Room, enclosed, Tigh could do nothing for the marine in front who was so obviously dying. So he sat down, his arm throbbing from the impact with the floor at the initial explosion.

Zarek, breathing heavily, collapsed in a chair, using his shirt sleeve to wipe the sweat on his forehead away. They had been so close to dying. If ever a time Zarek felt like praying, now was it.

"Thank the Gods that we-"

"-shut the frak up."

Tigh was in no mood to listen to Zarek preaching. He barely restrained himself when the actual President did it. At least she had better reasons, as completely frakking deluded as they were.

"Marines," Tigh growled, watching with satisfaction as the remaining marines saluted, "we need to get out of this room. Access through the vents is probably our best shot. It should lead us onto the next deck if we head left. We need to get to the deck above us or gods help us we are well and truly frakked."

The marines nodded their assent and began moving towards the vent grate at the far end of the room. Left alone, Tigh rubbed the tender bruise on his arm, his mind elsewhere.

_If we all die, at least I'll get to see Ellen again, _he thought, and suddenly he wasn't in such a rush.


	7. Chapter 7

_The cylons moved up to her, their heavy feet clanging, their joints creaking. Their red eyes stared straight at her, assessing and detailing. They were curious. Why would a human woman, so obviously near death, come to the same spot, each and every day, at the exact same time? What could possibly be achieved from it? Their hands reached out, transforming into guns. They should neutralize the threat, take care of the woman now just in case anything happens. In case she called for reinforcements. Yet something held them back. She stared up at them, her eyes doing assessments of their own. They could not determine emotions, they were prohibited from considering such complex features. So as she looked them up and down, they saw just a female human, frail in stature, no weapons on her. They left her alone, turning around and walking out of the building._

_"They do not hurt me, Laura," the woman called out, to which both cylons turned around, regarding her once more, "but they do wish you harm. You are reluctant to believe in me, so believe this. One of you will die, Laura Roslin. The earth of Caprica demands another soul, and your crew will deliver it."_

_She fell silent, her eyes closing. The cylons walked away, their eyes scanning the buildings around them as they left the woman on her own, sitting in the middle of the museum._

....

Kara Thrace had always hated sleepovers.

On the rare occasion that her mother let her round her friends, Kara had always been to sleepovers. She couldn't refuse them. However, it didn't mean that she had to like them. It wasn't what other people said in their dreams (the President mentioned the Old Man in hers, Helo whispered about Hera in his, Burgundy was ordering noodles in his) that bothered Kara. She would keep their dreams a secret. No, it wasn't what they said that put Kara off sleepovers. It wasn't the noises they made in their sleep, the slight dribbling, the snores. It wasn't any of these things that had long since put Kara off of going to sleepovers. What put Kara off the most was nightmares. She hated seeing a person suffer in their dream, moaning, sometimes thrashing, always the screaming when waking up. Nocturnal by nature, Kara could only sit and watch helplessly while people she knew and liked suffering in something they could not control. It was no use waking them up, it did not take away the memories, the fear. So she merely sat, unable to look away (it would not help, she could still hear).

She watched as a tear slipped down the cheek of Laura Roslin, her eyes flickering slightly, as if battling to wake up. Kara willed her to fight, to realise that it wasn't real. Laura moaned, a soft 'no' leaving her throat. Her hand twitched, a seemingly insignificant gesture compared to her shaking body. It had been going on for the last ten minutes, but luckily it had been quiet so far, not waking Helo or Burgundy from their peaceful slumber. Athena and Racetrack, having already had their rest, were sitting up front and talking in low tones, joking. They were blissfully unaware of what was going on in the back.

"C'mon," Starbuck whispered forcefully, hoping that it penetrated Laura's subconscious, causing her to wake up. It didn't, and Laura started to shake more.

"no-" Laura murmured, her voice broken, pleading, "no blood ... no blood ... please don't ..."

Kara felt a shiver run down her spine at the desperation in the President's voice. Laura's hand clutched at her own suit jacket, scrunching the material up. She was starting to get louder, the fear in her voice rising.

"No, please no! Don't say it! Spare us!"

Her raised voice was starting to get the attention of the two pilots in front as Athena turned her head slightly, curious as to the disturbance behind her. She looked at the President, who was shaking, moaning. She then turned to Starbuck, who was sitting opposite her, knees up to her chin and arms securely holding her legs on the seat.

Laura screamed, alerting all the crew. Helo jolted awake, pushing himself up in his chair, his hands flying to his pistol. Burgundy jumped up, head slamming the top of the raptor, hands also ready on his own gun. Athena and Racetrack both jumped, but did not move, except to glance at the now awake President, who was looking startled.

Silence reigned throughout the small space, broken only by Laura's heavy breathing and the muttered curses as Burgundy brought his hand up to the top of his head where he had collided with the raptor.

Laura shakily wrapped her suit jacket tighter round her body, wondering what the hell had happened. She was in the Delphi Museum, watching as the two cylons met the woman she was going to see. The woman had said something ... one of the crew was going to die!

Laura sucked in a breath and looked around her, her gaze meeting concerned faces as they all regarded her questioningly.

"Bad dream," she gave a shaky smile, willing herself to regain her composure, "I'm not in trouble, you can relax."

Helo moved his hand away from his gun, as did Burgundy, and both relaxed. Athena and Racetrack raised their eyebrows at each other, before turning back to the controls of the raptor. Laura felt relief as they all carried on their duties. However, as she looked around, she noticed that Starbuck still stared at her.

"Kara?" Laura asked softly, wondering why she was staring at her with such intensity.

"Some sleepover, huh?"

Laura opened her mouth to question the comment, but decided better of it. Making a small noise in the back of her throat, she instead glanced at the rest of the crew. She didn't want any of them to die. Maybe it was a choice? Maybe she could save them somehow? She had to believe that she could save them.

Starbuck was still regarding her and Laura looked at her again. This time, however, a small smile appeared on the young pilot's face, although it did not reach her eyes. Did Laura's nightmare affect Starbuck more than it affected herself?

"So," Kara muttered, still grinning slightly, "The Old Man, huh?"

....

"Move like you have a frakking purpose!"

Tigh pushed Tom Zarek hurriedly, his anger rising at the slow moving man in front. They had been moving through the vents for the past half hour, steadily making their way upwards to the next deck. Tigh insisted that Zarek go in front, so he could make sure that they weren't followed as the armed groups made their way through the deck. Soon after they set off on their journey, however, Tigh soon regretted this decision. Zarek was slow moving and reluctant, despite the obvious emergency.

Tigh was reaching the end of his tether as Zarek stopped yet again in front of him.

"Perhaps you don't know Mr Vice President," he snapped, his tone heavy with sarcasm, "but below us there is decompression. We need to get to the next deck, alert CIC and get the problem frakking fixed!"

"Colonel Tigh, with all due respect," Zarek replied, his hand coming up to wipe sweat away from his forehead, "it is hot and it is cramped up here. You are military, you can handle it. I, however, am a civilian."

Tigh bit back a reply of "terrorist", knowing that now would not be the most prudent time to retaliate, no matter how amusing it would be to see Zarek's reaction.

"Sir!" a marine called from the front, stopping the line, "we're here."

"Right," Tigh barked out, "we need to find the nearest comm to CIC. After that, we'll do a sweep of this level, before pushing back to the level below and doing sweep of what hasn't been decompressed."

The marines nodded their agreement to the orders, and light filtered in to the vents as the front marine pulled the grate away. With easy grace not expected of men in full guard uniform, the marines slipped through the space one at a time. Tigh pushed Zarek in front of him, herding him towards the light. Zarek clumsily pushed forwards and hung his legs over the edge.

"You know, climbing through vents isn't usually the requirements of a Vice President." he said, smirking slightly as he turned his head towards Tigh. The light illuminated his features and Tigh could see the sweat and exhaustion on Zarek's face.

"And babysitting ex-terrorist-turned-vice-president isn't a requirement of XO either, now move!"

"Yessir." Zarek smiled, before dropping down through the space, disappearing from sight. Tigh shook his head, moving forward and dropping down to the level below him.

He stood up slowly, glad to be able to stretch and walk around.

"Right," he ordered, turning around to face his marines, "the comm is nearby so-"

It was Zarek's expression that gave Tigh the first warning signal. He brought his sentence to a halt. Zarek's mouth was hanging open, looking over Tigh's shoulder. With great trepidation, Tigh turned around, his hand slowly caressing his gun at his side.

"No need for that Colonel. You're surrounded, so don't bother."

The voice was rough, filled with an intense hatred. Tigh turned around and was greeted with the barrel of a gun pointed directly at his own head.


	8. Chapter 8

"Lt Thrace."

"Yes ma'am?"

"What are the chances of a Cylon party greeting us on Caprica?"

"It depends. Greeting us with hostility or greeting us with open arms?"

Laura let out a small laugh, causing Kara to smirk slightly.

"Would it be too much to hope for?" Laura asked, smiling. Her expression was one of calm and serenity, not at all giving away the turmoil inside. She couldn't shake her last nightmare, with the two centurions pointing their guns at the woman. Would they meet alot of cylons? would they even make it as far as the museum or would a patrol sneak up on them, silencing them without a single ounce of remorse?

"Too much in this lifetime, yes. Hell, that'd be pushing it in the _next _lifetime."

"Kara, the chances?"

"I overheard two skinjobs on New Caprica saying about how they abandoned the colonies, wanting a more permanent settlement on New Caprica."

"But ...?" Laura asked, not holding out any hope. she had seen the cylons there in her dream.

"You're sharp, Madam President," Kara sighed, "chances are that they left a small party behind, made up of both skinjobs and centurions, just to make sure that we didn't come back. Let's hope it doesn't work, eh?"

"Yes," Laura replied, resting her head peacefully back against the bulkhead, "let's hope."

Athena turned around in her seat, looking at the occupants in the back of the Raptor.

"Get ready," she said, smiling, "one more jump."

"Thank the gods." Helo replied, running his hand through his short hair.

"Too cramped for you there Helo?" Kara asked, her eyes gleaming wickedly.

"Hey," Helo retorted, "if i can survive your cluttered apartment, i can survive another hour or so in here."

Starbuck clapped her hands slowly, mocking, "did you come up with that one all by yourself? Or did you and Athena stay up all night thinking that one up?"

Athena turned around, smirking.

"Hey, watch it Starbuck, or we'll drop you off on Geminon and you can make your own way back to Galactica."

Kara kept silent, her eyes rolling upwards, but she was still smiling. Laura laughed lightly at their jests, looking from one face to the other. Soon the laughter would be wiped from their faces. Caprica was going to be a tough time for all of them, especially if what the woman in her dreams said came true.

....

Tigh stood up straight, his head held high. He didn't cooperate with terrorists, it was a strict rule, especially after the attacks on the Colonies. Everyone was in the same situation, it wasn't right to give way to people who wanted more.

"Your gun Colonel, if you'd be so kind." The man smiled, showing broken teeth. He was obviously experienced in the the use of violence. He knew what he was doing. Did this make him the leader or just a hired henchman? He could always be a religious nutjob, but Tigh didn't believe that much of him. He looked too down-to-earth to be on some conversion mission.

Tigh loosened his gun from the holster at his side, slowly pulling the gun out with ease. He heard chuckling from behind him and knew that the other henchmen surrounding him, Zarek and the marines were finding this all amusing. They were obviously easily bribed into this, Tigh decided, probably too brainless to think for themselves.

"You are making a big mistake." Tigh replied evenly, holding his gun out towards the man in front. He decided to focus on him, as he seemed to be the voice and brains behind this particular group of armed idiots.

"We'll let God decide that for us later on. For now, your gun would be most appreciated."

Tigh took special note that the man had said 'God', a singular word. He wasn't a believer in the Lords of Kobol. As the man eagerly took the gun out of the Colonel's hand, it struck Tigh who he was dealing with.

"Gods," he breathed, looking at the man in front hawkishly, "you're one of those frakking Cylon Sympathisers, aren't you?"

"Now that you mention it-" The man replied, but abruptly stopped mid-sentence. A faint clicking came from behind his back, and the man's eyes rolled upwards, faintly humiliated. A marine stood behind him, the barrel of the gun pushing into his spine.

Tigh took the opportunity to snatch his gun back out of the man's hand and turn around towards the rest of the henchmen.

"Alright, fun's over. The brig is this way." He expected the men to put down their weapons, following his orders obediently. It came as a great shock to him when he heard a shot ring out, followed by the sound of many guns firing. His marines had their guns trained on the other henchmen, taking them out one at a time.

"Stop!" Tigh barked, moving forwards, physically pushing the marines weapons down. They obeyed, watching as the last henchman fell to the floor, a bullet embedded in his chest. There was a stunned silence and Tigh reluctantly broke it.

"What the frak just happened!?"

"They took a shot sir." A marine replied immediately, his head turning towards the Colonel.

"And so you took every frakker out!? We could have got information from them!"

Tigh turned around quickly, his ears picking up a long exhalation. The man from before, who Tigh assumed was the leader, stood before him, slightly pale as he looked over the bodies lying on the floor.

"Well, at least we still have one," Tigh murmured, his eye glancing over him once, "get him to the brig! I'm going to CIC! I want this man guarded 24/7. I mean it! I want you to watch him so hard that you'll be able to tell me how long he takes between each frakking breath. Got it?"

The marines nodded their assent, grabbing the man by his arms and roughly pushing him forwards.

Tigh looked towards Tom Zarek, who was breathing heavily.

"Best start revising the requirements of a Vice President." Tigh snapped at him, striding down the corridor.

"Yes i had better." Zarek muttered in reply after Tigh had turned round the corner at the end of the corridor, out of sight.


	9. Chapter 9

"Jumping in three."

All heads were down, in silent prayer that they would make it unscathed. Kara closed her eyes tight, trying to block visions of what had happened the last time she had come back. The first time she had been locked away in a farm, with the 'doctor' called Simon. She was being kept for reproduction by the cylons. The second time she had fought centurions, and had lost many good people. She had met Brother Cavil that day, another cylon model. She seemed to attract them.

"Two."

"Lords of Kobol." Burgundy muttered from the back, holding his head in his hands.

"One. Jump."

The raptor flickered and vainished, before reappearing somehwere else entirely.

"Madam President, welcome home." Racetrack stated, her eyes glancing at the planet that loomed in front of them. Laura moved forwards, looking at Caprica from the gap between the two pilot's seats.

"My Gods." She whispered, looking at it. It had been so long.

"We have contact!" Helo shouted from the back, his eyes alert looking at the computer in front of him.

"You are frakking kidding me!" Athena shouted, frantically flipping switches.

"Ten Cylon raiders, heading towards us now! Nearly in firing range!" Helo shouted back.

"They left raiders!?" Kara snapped, looking through the same gap as Laura. There in front of them, ten small dots that could have been stars were drawing closer, getting bigger.

"Evasive action! Now!" racetrack ordered, pulling the raider up sharply. They heard a whistling as several shots skimmed the bottom of the Raptor, narrowly missing them. They weren't as lucky the second time.

A faint boom signalled a hit and the impact caused the Raptor to shudder, rocking sharply to the left. Helo clutched the computer to keep himself steady in his seat as Laura was thrown out of hers and into the bulkhead opposite.

"Madam President! Are you alright!?" Kara shouted over the noise of the Raptor's alarms, concerned as Laura clutched her elbow.

"Fine!" she replied, just as loudly, "just hit my elbow! Nothing too bad!"

"We're losing power! They must have hit us good!" Helo warned the two pilots up front, looking towards them for instructions.

"Frak!" Racetrack shouted, slamming her hand down on the controls, careful not to hit any buttons that could cause damage.

"The raiders are retreating! They must be confident we're going to die!" Athena said, peering out the front screen at the retreating ships.

"Oh that's just great! Real reassuring!" Kara retorted, grabbing the two pilot seats to haul herself up.

"We need to make an emergency landing! We need to make it look like we're crashing. It needs to be convincing enough to keep those raiders off of us when we get the frak out of here!" Racetrack said, also watching the raiders.

"We'll go in cold then! Cut the engines and power until the last minute when we can make a landing." Helo suggested from the back.

"Good idea." Athena replied, taking the controls. The raptor grew silent, aside from the shudders as it drew closer to the planet's atmosphere. Laura grimaced as she clutched her elbow. She had only slightly knocked it, but it still ached. She concentrated, however, on the crew around her, who were trying valiantly to keep the raptor on the right course and to make the journey as smooth as possible. The raptor was slowly spinning, coming closer and closer to the planet.

"We're going to enter Caprica's atmosphere in a minute Madam President," Burgundy told her quietly, "it would be best if you held on to something, it can get quite bumpy. On New Caprica when we left the Galactica in vipers, we ... i'm sorry," he apologised hurriedly, flushing slightly, "you probably don't want to hear stories."

"Carry on," Laura said, reassuring the young pilot. He reminded her so much of Billy ... "I welcome the distraction. I want to hear the rest."

"Yes ma'am." Burgundy carried on his story as they clutched whatever they could find. The raptor spiralled downwards into Caprica's atmosphere.

....

"Cylon Sympathisers?" Adama looked up, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah," Tigh replied, "only now they're armed."

"I thought their leader was on Cloud Nine when the nuclear device was detonated?"

"Royan Jahee," Tigh spat out the man's name, disgusted, "_did_ die in that explosion, as did many more of them. Looks like the remnants of the group have been hiding out on The Pandora, slowly gaining more support."

"How did they get more support, after what happened on New Caprica?"

"I'm guessing it's been a slow process for them. Probably just hooked a load of suckers who were still on ships while we were down there."

Adama stared silently at the crew around him. He couldn't understand how the group had gained more support or how they had gained ammunition and guns.

"Bill?" Tigh muttered, wondering what the Admiral was thinking.

"I want to talk to him, the man you arrested."

"Yessir," Tigh saluted, "You gonna lose your temper like last time?"

"No."

"Damn."

....

Adama entered through the hatch, his eyes piercing as he glanced at the cells. There were two cells in this particular brig and one was occupied. The occupant sat on his rack, his elbows resting comfortably on his knees and holding the weight of his upper body as he slouched over. Adama and Tigh slowly walked over to where a marine stood on the other side of the bars, watching the man. At the sound of their steady footsteps, the man looked up and he noticed Colonel Tigh immediately. He broke into a toothy grin, his eyes narrowed.

Tigh turned swiftly to the marine.

"How long?" He asked, not caring to elaborate. Adama looked between them, confusion showing slightly in his eyes. His expression remained stoic, however.

The marine seemed to understand the question, hurriedly replying;

"2.79 seconds sir, but it changes. Sometimes it is erratic, other times slowed right down."

"I do it on purpose, you know." The prisoner called out, also understanding what it was that Tigh and the marine were going on about, "its a fun way to pass the time."

Adama turned to Tigh, his voice low so only the Colonel could hear.

"2.79 seconds, colonel?"

"Just making sure the marines are doing their jobs right Admiral. I told them i wanted him watched constantly so that they are even able to glean how much time between each breath."

Adama nodded his understanding, turning back round to the prisoner. He clasped his hands in front of him tightly, resisting the urge to use physical violence. Laura wouldn't have wanted it, and he loathed to be on the end of her anger after she returned from Caprica.

"Hows the ship?" The man asked, smiling sickly. There was no trace of genuine concern in the question or in his expression, not that Adama expected there to be any.

"The part of C deck that you destroyed is being repaired as we speak, so effectively you failed." Adama informed him, his expression cold.

"I didn't fail. My job was ultimately a success."

"How do you figure that one?" Colonel Tigh asked, glaring at the man.

"You are a weapon, an ideological tool of oppression. You believe that by slandering the cylons, you can keep people distracted from finding out the real enemy, the military that dictates our life."

"The cylons destroyed our homeworlds."

"We could stop running, right now. Make peace with them! We could share earth, live together again as we did before."

"This is a frakking joke." Tigh snapped, his good eye narrowed.

"Demand peace!" The prisoner replied, gaining momentum, "Demand peace and we can survive! The Cylons only wanted to live peacefully with us on New Caprica!"

"They pulled out my frakking eye!" Tigh roared and stepped closer, cracking his knuckles threateningly.

"Because of human resistance! People died because we humans couldn't accept their offer of peace! You were a member of the resistance yourself Colonel!"

"Enough." Adama stopped the argument immediately, and the two angry men turned to look at him. He was looking at the prisoner, his blue eyes piercing him, staring at him and through him with just one look.

"You boarded my ship without permission and caused a major explosion that cost the lives of several of my men. Not only that, you pulled a gun on my XO, intending to take him hostage. Even if we took the sympathy for the enemy out of the equation, you are looking quite possibly at a death sentence."

"If my death makes people aware of our cause then it is worth the sacrifice. The cylons only want peace, Admiral, can't you see that?"

"I see an enemy. An enemy that we created, the cylons. I also see an enemy that has created himself, you."

The prisoner looked at him silently.

"Now listen to me," Adama continued, his voice getting lower, "I need to know some things. I need to know every member of this Cylon Sympathy Group. I also need to know where you got your weapons and how many ships are in your control. Lastly, i need to know how many more there are of you on this ship. Maybe then we can take a step back and re-evaluate your sentence."

The prisoner didn't react at all, a smile still playing on his lips.

"Really, Admiral, it's never that easy. You make peace with the Cylons, then I will give you the information you so sorely want."

"You frakking son of a-" Tigh shouted, pushing towards the man behind the bars. The man flinched slightly, leaning back. Adama just stared as Tigh swore and shouted. Then, without a word, the Admiral turned around and strode out of the brig.

"Demand Peace!" The prisoner shouted as he left, still smiling.


	10. Chapter 10

"I should have shot him when i had the chance." Tigh stated, pushing the empty glass away from him. He was settled in an armchair in the Admiral's Quarters, watching curiously as Adama paced the room.

Adama held a drink in his hand, his gaze fixated on nothing as he wandered around. Cleary deep in thought, Tigh waited patiently for him to say something, anything.

"He knows the answer to every question i asked him." Adama stated, taking a slow measured sip of his water.

"Probably," Tigh agreed, leaning forward in the chair, "frak, Bill, you know what they're like. They're worse than the cylons themselves. I can't imagine even the skinjobs touching them with a 10 foot barge pole. They mess with your head, manipulating. They pretend they know nothing."

"I want to know what they're planning, what they're currently doing. There must be something."

"I can pull together a team of armed marines, board The Pandora and arrest all the bastards. Be done with it, take 'em all out."

"There'd be consequences. A wave of righteous protests. That's what they want, the civilians to turn against the military. They don't want to just be heard, they want power. I don't want to take the risk."

Tigh sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. Adama watched him.

"Saul," he said softly, "it's been a long day. Go to bed, i can handle everything."

Tigh wanted to refuse, but couldn't. He really did need the rest, as much as he loathed to admit it.

"Okay," he said, standing up and stretching, "don't let this bother you too much Bill. We'll find out what they're up to, we always do."

"Yeah." Adama agreed, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly into a small smile.

Tigh left the quarters, shutting the hatch with a loud 'clang' behind him. Adama released a long sigh, putting down his glass gently. He hoped that Laura would get back soon. She would be able to sort it all out with just one look, like she did the last time. Adama found himself wishing she were here with him. He needed her.

....

_"It doesn't end here, Laura Roslin."_

_She spoke softly, her voice faint with fatigue. Empty syringes were scattered around her. She had long ran out of anti-radiation meds and it was showing. The dark circles under her eyes, the pale skin, strands of hair pushed roughly back underneath the rag tied around her head. She was dying and she knew it. _

_"You're here now. I have what you want to know. Come quickly."_

_The woman closed her eyes, biting back nausea. She hoped Laura Roslin would get here soon, it was imperative. She knew the future, but it was subjective. If Laura didn't come quickly with medication, then she would surely die. She wasn't ready to die. She knew too much. _

_"Wake up Laura."_

....

"Madam President?"

Laura was relucant to open her eyes. The darkness was so inviting and her eyes were so heavy, she didn't want to wake up. She felt a gentle pull on her shoulder, followed by a hand pressed against her forehead. She didn't know who it was and she didn't care. She wanted them to go away and to leave her to sleep. The hands, however, were getting more insistent, tugging roughly at her. The voices became more pronounced and she picked up a distinctly feminine tone.

"She's not opening her eyes Helo! What the frak do i do!?"

"I don't know!" A man's voice this time, "Can't you hit her or something!?"

"No way!" the woman replied, "I am not hitting the President! Gods Helo, i've seen her airlock skinjobs, it's not an experience i want to be a part of!"

"Well, we have to wake her up somehow! We need to get out of here _fast _Starbuck."

So it was Kara's voice ... Laura's eyes flickered open slightly, deciding to bring herself back to reality. Something was going on and it sounded urgent. She opened her eyes fully, taking in her surroundings. Laura felt a tickle in her throat, but resisted the urge to cough. She needed to get to this woman in the Delphi Museum, and she needed to get to her fast.

"Kara?" Her voice sounded strangled as she forced her cough back, "where are we?"

Kara sounded relieved when she replied.

"Martok Valley ma'am."

"And is that," Laura felt her throat constrict slightly and paused for a moment, before carrying on, "is that near any old cylon bases at all?"

"We're a few hundred clicks from the old Cylon airbase. I think we're safe here- well," she corrected herself quickly, "as safe as we possibly could be here."

Laura nodded, satisfied. They had landed at least. She felt something run slowly down her face, and automatically brought her hand up to stop it. As she pulled it away and squinted at it, Laura realised that it was blood. She didn't make a big deal out of it, head wounds tended to bleed and look alot worse than they actually were. Helo looked towards her, noticing her preoccupation.

"I have a medkit here, Madam President," he pulled the medkit up to show her, "but we can't afford to stay here near the crash site for too long. I'll patch you up when we get far enough away and set up camp."

"Thankyou Lt Agathon. Where are the others?"

Kara cast Helo an uneasy glance, a look of warning flashing in her eyes. He apparently heeded the warning, running his hand over his head and sighing.

"Athena and Racetrack are both collecting supplies and putting them outside the raptor for when we are ready to get out of here, which," he held out his hand, offering to help Laura to her feet, "should be very soon. It's starting to get dark."

"You mean the world outside actually changes colour?" Laura asked, smiling slightly as she was hauled to her feet. She bit back the nausea once again, and took a look at the raptor around her. There were no alarms going off, but Laura could see obvious damage to the interior of the ship. There were blood stains on the bulkhead, but Laura didn't know if they were hers or anyone elses. There were dents in the flooring, and the machinery in the back looked shot to pieces. Athena and Ractrack were outside, Helo and Kara were standing next to her, yet Laura felt that something was missing ...

"Wait a minute," she stated, halting Helo in his tracks as he went to step out of the raptor, "the pilot, Burgundy. Where's Burgundy?"

The silence was all she needed.

"He's dead." Laura clarified.

Kara nodded, turning away. She had lost a good pilot and she really felt it.

"Madam President," Helo said softly, not wanting to sound too harsh or hurried, but they were on a time limit, "we have to leave now."

"Of course," Laura agreed, trying depserately to keep her presidential facade up, "Let's go."

Helo kept quiet. He didn't want to distress Starbuck or the President anymore. Instead, he invited Laura to go in front of him out of the raptor, which she accepted gracefully. As she stepped out into the light, she felt her heart lift. Although it was getting dark, she could feel the warmth through her suit. It was dusk. She had always loved dusk. Watching the sun set over the trees, she so desperately wanted to see it again. But she couldn't. They needed to get somewhere safe and hidden, quickly.

Laura saw Athena and Racetrack placing supplies in small piles, cuts and bruises covering the skin they had on show. She looked away quickly, knowing that her insistence caused this.

_It's for a good cause, _a voice told her inside her mind, _you are going to help the fleet. _

Her mind kept repeating the mantra, as she gazed around. They were close to a forest, it was just about a hundred feet away. They could hide in there, it would cover them for a short while. Laura turned around to tell Kara, but saw that the young pilot was bending down, looking at a blanket on the floor. It was then that she noticed it. There was something under the blanket. Laura knew immediately what it was and strode over as fast as she could.

"Is that-" She asked, her voice breaking slightly.

"Yeah." Kara interrupted, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She stood up abruptly, looking Laura in the face with eyes of steel.

"'The earth of Caprica demands another soul'." Laura whispered to herself, repeating what the woman had said in her dream.

"And we sure as hell frakking delivered it." Kara replied shortly, her eyes narrowed at the President. With that, she stalked away, shouting to Helo who was pulling the medkit out of the Raptor.

Laura moved slowly over to the body, covered by the blanket. With precision, she tugged at it, uncovering the recently deceased pilot's face. His eyes had been closed by his fellow crew members, but his face didn't hold the peaceful tranquility that she expected. Laura exhaled shakily, before gently placing the blanket back down. There were times when prophecies brought hope for the future, but as Laura stared down at the young man at her feet, she realised that sometimes prophecies were bad omens, and she became more determined to change them.


	11. Chapter 11

"We need to move to that treeline," Helo stated, kneeling down as he checked their supplies, "it will give us cover. From there we can move into the city itself."

"If we survive that long to make it to the city." Kara muttered darkly, looking around at the now diminished crew. They were huddled next to the pile of supplies, a map lay on the ground between them. Sharon was pointing towards the Delphi Museum on the map, her finger sliding along the paper, mapping the best possible route.

"Lt. Agathon," Laura said, pushing her glasses up her nose as she turned in his direction, "do you think that the cylons are aware of our feint?"

"Probably," Admitted Helo, "which is why we really need to get moving."

Racetrack sighed as she got up, stretching and picking the map up off of the ground. She rolled it carefully and placed it in a container, similiar to the one Kara had used to hold the Arrow of Apollo. It was imperative that they kept the map safe. It had been so long since they had seen Caprica, directions weren't familiar to them.

"Starbuck," Athena called to Kara as they both stood up, "you take point."

"Gladly." She stated, her eyes burning as she looked at Laura. She turned away, pushing towards the supplies and picking up a medkit. After she securely attached the medkit, Kara unholstered her pistol, keeping it pointed downwards as she pushed through the valley, towards the forest in front of her. The rest of the crew watched silently as Kara walked away, confused about her attitude.

"I'll cover us. Athena and Racetrack, stick to the President." Helo murmured, slinging a bag over his back and unholstering his own weapon. Athena and Racetrack both nodded, their hands hovering at their sidearms as they picked up their own bags and luggage.

Laura moved forward to pick up some supplies, but found the ground empty around her. She turned around to scold the crew for not treating her equally, but before she could, Athena held up a large plastic box.

"Could you take this ma'am?" Athena asked, pushing it into Laura's arms. Laura smiled warmly in response, only happy to help.

"Okay guys, let's keep up with Starbuck. Move out!" Helo said loudly, gently nudging the President in the right direction. Racetrack, moved forward slowly, her head turned to make sure that Laura was keeping up. Athena walked about half a step behind Laura, looking towards the trees. It had been too long since they had seen such life. She was surprised that the radiation had hardly changed them. Surely the plants and trees would all have withered away by now?

Helo looked back at the raptor, his eyes scanning the surroundings. He was looking for a flash of red, was listening for the heavy pounding of the Centurion's footprints. Taking one last look to make sure he couldn't see an enemy or hadn't forgotten any supplies, Helo turned around, following the crew. _It's only a matter of time, _he thought, _before a group of centurions find our raptor and track us down. _

A small part of him hoped that Starbuck's assumptions were incorrect, that the cylons really had abandoned this planet completely, but the strategically placed raiders orbiting the planet told him otherwise.

"Move faster!" he shouted to Starbuck, who was up front. She turned around and nodded, before signalling the rest to hurry up. Hopefully they'd find some sort of shelter before too long. It was starting to get very dark.

....

Aaron Doral looked at the retreating figures and smiled. He placed his hand in his suit pocket and turned around to his companion, making sure that he wasn't the only one who was seeing this.

"I was right." It was all he said, his voice confident and slightly mocking.

His companion, a tall woman with platinum blonde hair moved forward, her lips slightly apart as she squinted to see the 5 humans wandering away from them.

"Why?" she asked softly, looking towards Doral, "why would they come back?"

"I don't know," replied Doral, turning his head in her direction. His eyes were glittering with malice, "but i want to find out."

"What do we do? Send the centurions in and get them to take prisoners?"

"Now, six, you know better than that," Doral said clearly, watching as the humans made it to the treeline, "we have ... _other _options."

The model six's brow furrowed slightly, her confusion apparent on her delicate features.

"Options other than send in the centurions?"

"I didn't say it wouldn't include the centurions."

"What are you planning Doral? We are suppose to agree on everything."

Doral just shook his head, silencing her. He continued to watch the human crew before they disappeared entirely from view. They were fascinating really, humans. The cylons looked the same, bled the same, carried the same emotions, memories, everything. Yet there was something about the humans that were different. Their flaws set them apart. The more human cylons were still just machines, evolved from their metal counterparts. They carried no flaws, no weaknesses. Doral was glad. They had been watching them since their raptor landed, and already he and Six could pick out the human's major weaknesses. In fact, when he saw the male human look around at the scene before him, Doral realised that he could use one of their weaknesses against them.

"I need two centurions. Soon we'll know all we need to. Why they're here, where their fleet currently are, everything."

Six nodded, slowly stepping out from view to get the centurions. Doral just stood, his hand still inside his pocket, the smile still fixed on his face. The humans wouldn't last long at all.

....

_Her hair was just as soft as he had imagined it would be. His fingers ran through it, the auburn strands glinting in the light. He had always wanted to run his fingers through her hair. He hated watching her from a distance, wrapped up in their titles. A small selfish part of him wanted her all to himself, away from the Fleet and the media and the Galactica crew. Yet he knew he couldn't. They could be nothing more than friends. He had accepted that, but as his hands moved away from her hair and ran down her face slowly, he couldn't help but wish that he was no longer the Admiral, that she was no longer the President. _

_"Bill." She sighed as he stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He was content to just look at her face, watch her expressions as he continued his ministrations. _

_"Bill." This time her voice sounded more resolute, more Presidential._

_He looked confused, pulling away slightly. _

_"What is it, Laura?" He asked quietly._

_"Demand Peace." She stated, her hand lightly stroking his wrist. _

_"What?" This wasn't possible. Did she have any idea what she was frakking talking about? _

_"Demand Peace!" Her voice grew louder, and suddenly she was no longer there in front of him. Bill found himself standing in front of the brig bars, opposite a man with a sickly smile. _

_"Demand Peace!" The man shouted, his voice distant as alarms went off, gaining volume, until his ears rang._

His phone buzzed loudly. Bill Adama's eyes shot open, taking in all of his surroundings. A dim light emanated from the lamp over on his desk, but other than that his quarters were shrouded in darkness. His head was swimming with thoughts of his dream. It didn't usually end that way, Laura echoing the words of the Cylon Sympathisers, and Bill couldn't get his head round it. Was it some sort of message? Was the President's opinion on the matter getting into his subconscious? Was it Laura telling him to be lenient, to accept the group? He shook his head, smiling slightly. He had been around her too long, he never liked to interpret his dreams, just acknowledging them was enough for him. Besides, President Roslin would never agree with the group, nor would he.

He slowly got up from his rack, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He picked up the phone reluctantly, still stifling a yawn.

"Adama, go."

_"Sir, we have Apollo on the line, he's requesting to speak to you, he says it's urgent." _Dee's voice greeted him. He could imagine her now, bright eyed in CIC, headset on and ready to go. He rubbed his left eye, willing himself to be more awake.

"Thankyou Dee. I'll be in CIC shortly."

"Yessir."

Adama hung up the phone, wanting nothing more than to return to his rack and fall back asleep. Let someone else deal with it. He knew he couldn't, however, and stood up, searching for his uniform in the dark. It took a few moments, but he finally managed to get changed into uniform. As he was putting on his Admiral pins, the phone started to buzz again. He sighed, before moving over and picking it up once again.

"Adama, go."

_"where the frak are you Bill?" _Saul's voice echoed into Adama's ear and the Admiral pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I was just about to leave. Is there something you need to tell me?" He knew that Tigh wouldn't tell him the story over the phone, he was just a very impatient person.

_"Oh you wanna hear this one from your son." _Adama picked up a dark humour to his XO's words and reconsidered just getting back into his rack and falling asleep again.

"Why do i get the feeling you are enjoying this immensely, Saul?""

_"I'm not," _Tigh denied, _"i just like to live on the darker side of life."_

Adama hung up the phone, before striding out of his quarters, on his way to to CIC.


	12. Chapter 12

"Sitrep!" Adama commanded as he moved through CIC. Gaeta hovered behind him, sheet of paper in hand, ready to give to the Admiral.

"Sir, _The Pandora _is moving off of its fixed trajectory again, but this time its movements are erratic to say the least."

Tigh's jaw quivered slightly as he watched Gaeta hawkishly. Adama sighed. Would those two _ever _get along? He pulled the sheet out of Gaeta's hand and took a fleeting glance at it, before placing it down on the table in front. He turned to Dee.

"You said Apollo was on the line. Is it about _The Pandora_?"

"Yessir."

"Put him on."

Adama picked up the phone in front, wincing slightly at the static that resounded in his ear.

"Apollo, this is Galactica Actual. Go."

_"Admiral, I'm reporting major leakage coming from within the fleet. I'm tracking it down, and i'm pretty sure it's coming from The Pandora, sir."_

Adama placed his hand over the receiver and turned his head to stare straight at Gaeta.

"confirm that. I want to know if _The Pandora _is reporting any fuel leaks."

"Sir, i already checked and confirmed. Though they themselves haven't reported any, the leaks have been tracked down and _The Pandora _is the source."

"They planned this," Tigh growled, his voice low in warning, "Admiral, the ship is full of Cylon Sympathisers. The best way to form a truce with the Cylons isn't to go looking for them, but to bring _them _to _us._"

"The cylons will be tracking the leak, following us." Adama summarised, looking at Tigh.

"We need to prepare an emergency jump. We need to fix the leak and immediately jump away."

"How?" Adama asked, "if we vounteer to fix their intentional leaks, do you really think they're gonna accept?"

Tigh stood still, mulling over different ideas, different ways.

"Send in an engineer," He said, "give them a group of armed marines as escorts and bodyguards."

"Sounds like another Gideon Incident to me." Adama muttered to Tigh.

"It's the only way. Then after that we can tell the fleet to rendevouz at the emergency coordinates and-"

"We're not leaving here. Our raptor from Caprica will return and i don't want them to return to a a couple of cylon basestars and a few hundred raiders."

"So we're gonna just sit here with our asses hanging out!?" Tigh asked, outraged.

"We don't even know yet if the cylons are tracking us." Adama replied steadily, indicating that Tigh should pull himself together.

Tigh stood silently by Adama's side, not uttering another word about it.

It was only then that Adama realised he was still holding the phone in his hand. He placed it back to his ear.

"Apollo, your orders are to bring the CAP in. I need to see you immediately."

_"Yessir," _replied Apollo, _"i'm bringing the birds back to the nest now. Apollo out."_

Adama firmly placed the phone back down, before looking around him. The crew were working efficiently. It was a good time to leave.

"Colonel Tigh, you have the deck." he commanded, looking towards his XO. Tigh nodded, moving away to no doubt stalk past the crew, watching their every move, telling them to pick up the pace. Adama left CIC.

....

Helo started to pant as he quickly pushed futher into the forest. Trees and bushes blurred into just green smudges as he leapt over a log and carried on. His legs were tiring, but he kept pushing forwards. He had told the others to go on ahead as he watched their backs. Helo then backtracked, trying to clear their obvious trail. It wasn't an easy job, five lots of footprints, broken twigs and branches. He knew it was useless, he would just be moving along the same trail again, but he hoped that his one trail would be harder to pick up.

He saw an old building in front, derelict and encompassed by the darkness of night. The perfect cover. It looked as if it was abandoned long before the attacks. An old barn, the door cracked and splintered as it hung uselessly on one hinge. It couldn't shield them from the cold of night and wouldn't stand for long against an army of cylons, or even a strong wind for that matter, but it was fit enough for one night (provided the wind stayed mild).

Helo pulled the barn door open, cringing as it creaked loudly. He heard a hushed silence as he walked slowly in, noticing his shadow elongate in front. The only light came from behind him, so as he peered into the barn he could only see what was directly in front. His ears picked up movements from his left and right. A gun safety being clicked off.

"Whoa, it's me guys!" He put his hands up, his shadow copying his actions. If they couldn't see him, they could watch his shadow repeat his movements on the floor, "its me, Helo."

A female to his right sighed in relief, but he couldn't hear anyone else's reactions. They were obviously still suspicious.

"What was the name of our daughter?"

The voice was soft and female, looking for an answer so she knew he wasn't a Cylon.

"Hera." He replied, his voice tight. It still hurt slightly to talk about the daughter they had lost.

"Get the frak in here Helo, _now._"

Helo obeyed, stepping through into the barn. Someone behind him slammed the barn door closed, with no concern as to if the cylons could hear them. He was encased in darkness, the light of the moon vanishing the instant the door closed.

He heard a lighter being clicked on and Kara's face appeared, looking at him. She pulled a face, shadows dancing in the crevices of her features, before moving slowly over to what Helo suspected was the middle of the barn. He smiled, comforted that Kara could still manage some humour after what had happened. He felt sympathy for her over the loss of Burgundy. She had taken him under her wing, teaching him everything she knew. As many pilots commented, it was like a military version of Laura Roslin and Billy Keikeya. Just like Billy, Burgundy had died, the connection severed. He expected that Laura would feel more in touch with Kara now, having experienced this kind of loss already. However, he noticed that Starbuck had been particularly cold towards the President and she in return hadn't pushed to talk to her.

Suddenly, light flared from the middle of the room. While Helo was gone, they must have found dry wood, maybe even some leftover hay from inside the barn. Whatever it was, it was now burning, blue flames dancing, emanating warmth and light.

Helo took the chance to look around and pinpoint where everyone was. He could see the outline of Athena to his right, sitting on the floor, her raptor suit undone down to her waist. She was smiling at him, inviting him over to join her. He glanced to his left and spotted President Laura Roslin sitting on some sort of old barrel, suit jacket wrapped around her tightly, her hands clasping it in place. She was deep in conversation with Racetrack who sat next to her on the barrel, their voices nothing more than faint whispers. Kara knelt in the middle, making sure the fire was bright and extended far enough.

"Kara, do you need any help?"

"Nope."

Helo looked at Athena, questioningly, but she just shrugged, her eyebrows raised.

Laura started to cough, drawing the attention of everyone in the barn, although they pretended not to hear her. They knew that Laura wasn't one to voluntarily show weakness in the public eye, not even a cough.

Kara threw a bottle of water to her roughly, not saying a word, not even glancing in her direction. It hit the barrel and fell to the ground next to her, rolling away slowly. Racetrack bent down and fetched the bottle, giving it to the president who tried to thank her unsuccessfully as the coughs were continuous.

"Did you manage to clear the trail?" Kara asked shortly, looking up for a moment towards Helo who sat down beside Athena.

"Yeah," he replied, his hand rubbing his aching neck, "no sign of any cylons."

Kara nodded, turning back to the fire in front of her.

"We need a medkit," Athena said quietly to Helo, "we can start to look at everyones wounds now, and before that we need anti-radiation meds."

"Good point." Helo muttered, before slowly standing up and moving to the corner of the barn where the supplies were stacked neatly. With a neat tug, he pulled a medkit out from under a couple of bags. He walked back towards the fire, before kneeling down and opening the box. Even though the fire was bright, he still had to squint as he rummaged through the medkit. Finally, he pulled out a small tin, containing syringes filled with anti-radiaton medication.

He passed them around to the rest of the crew, before taking one out for himself. After closing the box, he used his fingers to map the back and side of his neck, before settling on a spot. He jabbed the needle in, feeling a slight sting as it punctured the skin. He pushed down on the top of the syringe and felt the liquid move down through his body. It was a weird feeling, a slight burning as it travelled. Helo looked around and saw that Athena had already done hers, although she was in much less danger of radiation poisoning than the rest of them. She was cylon, after all.

Kara had her eyes closed as she tugged the needle back out. Turning slightly, Helo saw Racetrack watching uneasily as Laura Roslin placed the needle point at the side of her neck, near the same spot where Helo had chosen to place his own.

"Madam President, are you sure you'll be able to-"

"-Lt Edmunson, i have had far more injections than you, i assure you. I will be fine."

With that, she punctured her skin and grimaced slightly as she pushed the liquid into her body. Racetrack, satisfied that Laura wasn't about to keel over, quickly injected her own. Helo stood up, holding up bandages and plasters.

"Right," he said clearly, looking around, "who needs to be fixed up?"


	13. Chapter 13

"Why are you here Colonel?"

The prisoner asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He had spent the past half hour sitting at a table where the Marines had placed him, looking at the ceiling, the wall, anything that could keep his attention. The room was dull, nothing really special about it. Colonel Tigh had entered through a large door, telling the Marines to leave him. Leave him with the prisoner, on his own. This was not going to be good.

"I'll ask the questions here," Tigh growled, his good eye fixated on the man sitting at the table. He could think of nothing more dispicable than this man in front, except the cylons themselves, "what's your name?"

"Why? so you can start a file on me? bring the media in, tell them i'm a cylon and therefore evil. Perhaps the esteemed President will airlock me?"

A hand whipped around, slamming him in the face. The prisoner fell off of his chair, landing helplessly on the ground, his cheek aching. He brought his hand slowly up to his lip. Blood. He could taste it, metallic on his tongue. He smiled, depsite the pain.

"You see, this is what we don't stand for, Colonel. The military cannot seem to grasp the concept of non-violence."

Tigh was standing over him, his eye burning with anger. With surprising ease (considering his age), the colonel pulled the man back onto his feet, shoving him into the chair once again.

"We can do this the easy non-violent route you preach for. I ask, you answer. No-one gets hurt. Now, what's your frakking name?"

"Alexander Verus." The prisoner replied, reluctantly agreeing to what Tigh was saying.

"You came from _The Pandora_?"

"Yes."

"_The Pandora_, eh? A fine ship."

"Yes," Alexander said, placing his hands flat on the table, "it is, isn't it?"

"Too bad it's going to be blown up."

"You're making no sense Colonel."

Colonel Tigh scrutinized the man closely, before replying.

"All Galactica's main batteries are targeted on _The Pandora._ It seems that the ship had been intentionally allowing the cylons to track us."

He threw the bait out there, now Tigh waited to reel the fish in.

"I have no idea where you get your information from Colonel, but _The Pandora _has done nothing to put this fleet in jeopardy! We have provided you with fuel and-"

"-you know exactly what i'm frakking talking about Verus!" Tigh roared, grabbing and pulling the prisoner up by the collar and steadily pushing him back until he could feel a solid wall behind him. Tigh was in his face, almost nose to nose. Verus could smell the slight scent of Ambrosia in his breath.

"I don't know what you're talking about Colonel," Verus replied quietly, smiling despite the circumstances, "what has _The Pandora _done exactly to warrant this display of military might?"

"Reports have come in," Tigh murmured threateningly, "about your ship leaking. Now, being who the frak you are, we are more than sure that this is intentional." He released the collar of Verus and pushed away, walking back to the table. Verus slowly slid down the wall, before coming to rest on the floor.

"I assure you, if there are any leaks on our ship, it is purely accidental. Just because we're Cylon Sympathisers on the ship, don't assume that we want to bring the cylons to us."

"Well that's good," Tigh nodded, sitting down at the table calmly, "we'll get you in touch with _The Pandora _and you can tell them that we're sending an engineer over to fix the leaks."

That seemed to have done the trick. Tigh noticed the man's eyes widen slightly. It was for just a second, but Tigh could see that he had won. Verus didn't want the leaks fixed.

"Of course i'll have a word with them, tell them what's happening." Verus replied politely, too politely. He was hiding a trick up his sleeve.

"Good. Guards!" He shouted behind him, waiting for the marines to enter and let him out of the room. The marines opened the hatch, saluting as colonel Tigh stalked past them. Before he left completely, however, Tigh turned to the last marine on his right.

"He's frakking trouble. Don't turn your back on him for a second."

"Colonel?" Verus called out to him, getting Tigh to turn around.

"What the frak do you want?" Tigh snapped.

"Demand Peace."

....

"He's got stones, i'll give him that."

Adama looked up from his paperwork, staring intently at his XO. He seemed to have missed what Tigh was talking about, too wrapped up in his own reports and messages. Tigh seemed to notice this and sighed inwardly.

"What's up Bill? you've been acting off all day."

"What did the prisoner say?" Adama asked, studiously ignoring Tigh's question. His gaze returned to the papers in front. So many papers, reports, call records from Tom frakking Zarek. Yeah, like Bill would speak to _him._

"His name is Alexander Verus. He is a crafty frakker, almost didn't catch that one out."

"What did he have to say about the leak?"

"Claims he knew nothing about it. Said he'd call and tell them that the engineers are going over to fix it."

"But you think he's planning something." It wasn't a question. Adama knew Tigh too well.

"He's been frakking with us from day one. He boarded the ship with weapons, frak, he wouldn't have stopped there. There is no way that he would give up now."

"I want him to place that call, and i want to be there with him when it happens."

"yessir," Tigh gave a short laugh, "'Demand Peace'. Yeah right."

Adama looked up, his mind racing back to his dream.

_"Demand peace." She stated, lightly stroking his wrist._

"Bill?" Tigh was looking at him, concerned. Bill's expression hurriedly turned stoic. He didn't want to have to tell Saul anything from his dream.

"Until the call is placed," Adama replied, "i want _The Pandora _quarantined. I want to keep them in one place. I don't want any other ships sabotaged or boarded."

"I wouldn't put it past them. I'll order the quarantine. They won't like it though." Tigh sighed, rubbing his stubbled jaw.

"That is all, Colonel."

Tigh seemed to understand, giving a small salute before walking out of Bill's quarters, leaving him to mull over whatever thoughts were racing through his mind.


	14. Chapter 14

"Dad?" Lee entered the quarters quietly. He was later than he should have been. When the Admiral said 'immediately', everyone knew that it meant two seconds ago. However, they were four pilots short and the CAP rota was in need of re-organising. Lee had put it off, but a fight between Kat and Redwing (which ended up with a bloody nose and more than a few bruises) over who was flying the four hour rotation caused him to go to the rec room, switching names and giving balanced rotations. Now that it was settled, he could finally see his dad for whatever urgent business The Old Man needed to discuss.

Adama was sitting on his couch, his fingers absently trailing the figure eight over a report laying in front of him on the coffee table. He didn't look up when Lee entered the quarters, but he didn't order him out either. Lee took his chances, stepping further in.

"I hear you've quarantined _The Pandora._" He tried to start a conversation, breaking the silence.

"I didn't want to take the risk of another attack by the group," Adama replied shortly. He looked up and met Lee's eyes. They were tired, but defiant, "we can handle them, the civvies can't." With that, he brought a glass of water up to his lips, taking a long sip.

"Sounds reasonable. What do you want me to do?" Lee asked.

"I need you to accompany an engineer to _The Pandora._" his dad stated casually, his eyes turned back to the report in front of him. Lee took a moment to process what he had said.

"Our CAP is already four pilots down, dad, i don't think we can afford to take me out of it aswell for a marine job."

"You'll have marines with you aswell."

"With all due respect, this is completely-"

"-we need to fix the fuel leaks, and you are the only one i trust to get the engineer there and back again in one piece."

"The marines are trained for that." Lee retorted.

"It's not voluntary, it's an order," Adama told him shortly, putting an end to Lee's protests, "the group are dangerous. They have a trick up their sleeve and i need your quick thinking and reflexes."

Lee remained silent, taking in what was being said and trying to come up with valid arguments against the order. It was futile, however, and Lee sighed.

"If that's all Admiral?" He asked, saluting, "I have to go brief the next CAP."

"You're dismissed."

....

Laura Roslin opened her eyes slowly. It was the first time for a while that she hadn't dreamed of the Museum and the woman. She wondered briefly if there was a reason behind it, maybe she was dead already? maybe a group of cylons had killed her, or radiation? She shook her head, breaking that train of thought. She was being ridiculous. Laura finally had a peaceful nights sleep and she complained and worried about it.

Racetrack came into view above her, bending down slightly.

"We're nearly ready to get moving." She said, holding her hand out to pull Laura up. Laura, however, ignored the hand offered to her and turned over, getting to her knees and up into a standing position. She could tell it was morning, the barn seemed lighter somehow, and the fire was distinguished.

"Maybe we'll hear a bird." Racetrack said.

"With the noise those two out there are making? good luck." Athena replied from the other side of the barn. She was bent over the medkit, pulling out anti-radiation meds.

Laura looked towards the door, wondering what Athena was going on about. Were Helo and Starbuck having a fight? She wanted to know what was going on, moving to the front of the barn. As she debated pulling the door open to see what the fuss was about, two voices grew louder from behind the door, their words becoming more and more distinct.

"-I don't care Helo! He's dead, ok!?"

"Starbuck, listen to me! It's nobody's fault! Now will you please grow up and at least _acknowledge _her!?"

They were talking about her, Laura knew it immediately. She carried on listening.

"What do you want from me!? I'm sure as hell not frakking going in there and being best buddies with her! This stupid frakked up mission was _her_ idea!"

"Listen to me Kara," Helo's voice grew quiet and Laura had to strain her ears to hear what he was saying, "we all came here by choice. Burgundy knew what he was getting himself into and he _chose _to come here. We need to put this behind us."

"Put it all behind us, huh? Yeah it's easy for you isn't it Helo?"

Laura tried to hear more, but it sounded like Kara was done talking. Footsteps grew louder, heading towards the barn and Laura quickly pulled herself away, moving over to where she had fallen asleep. The barn door creaked loudly, signalling that Starbuck and Helo had returned.

"Right, listen up," Athena called, drawing the attention of the other four occupants of the barn, "we have enough anti-radiation meds to last a couple more days here, but that's it. We need to move faster and for greater lengths of time. We can't afford to rest."

Everyone nodded their agreement, and Athena started handing around the syringes. She passed two to Helo, who then gave one to Kara. She then moved around and passed one to Racetrack. When she got to Laura, Athena held out a syringe for her to take. Laura took it gratefully.

"Thankyou," she said, holding it tightly in her hand, "we have enough for how many days?"

"About three days," Athena replied, "they come standard with every medkit, but since there are four of you, you have to share them equally. Since i'm cylon, i have far more resistance to radiation than you. I don't need the meds as much."

"So what you're saying is we will have none to spare?"

"What i'm saying is if you've got a secret stash, now would be a time to admit it." She said, giving a small smile before moving away.

Laura looked at the syringe in her hand. _How many days can someone go without these? _The woman in her vision was dying, her supply of anti-radiation meds gone. She needed it more than Laura, and if the president wanted information from her, the woman needed to be somewhat coherent.

Laura made up her mind and pocketed the syringe. She could last a day without the meds. With that, she moved to follow the rest of the crew out of the barn, picking up supplies as she went.

"Where are the birds?" Racetrack asked, looking up at the trees surrounding the barn.

"The place was nuked Racetrack," replied Kara, "best you're gonna get is a singing cockroach, now let's move!"

....

They were catching up. The humans were fast, but they were faster. Heavy footsteps thundered as they broke into a run. Not long to go now at all. One of the five was a cylon. A number Eight model. _Do not harm the Eight. _They could not harm any model, they were programmed not to, unless ordered otherwise.

Their orders were clear, however, and they felt nothing about them. No emotion, no flicker of disappointment, relief, nothing. They were to catch up with the five and hold up their guns and-

They were machines. They would do their jobs. They picked up the short breaths and light footfalls of the five as they ran. One of them looked at the other, head tilted slightly. Its red eye flashed and the other one understood. Just a few more minutes.


	15. Chapter 15

"Starbuck!" Racetrack shouted, her breath coming in short gasps, "will you frakking stop!?"

Kara, in response, started to slow her pace, turning around and watching Racetrack try desperately to keep up. She tucked an unruly lock of short blonde hair behind her ear and let out a long breath. She had a stitch, a terrible ache that refused to go away.

_She pushed the glass into his neck, feeling warm blood soak her face as it punctured flesh. He tried to shout, but found he couldn't. With all the effort he could muster, he brought his hands up, clawing desperately at her._

Kara shook her head, banishing the image. The ache was from the running, she was sure of it. The stupid frakked up operation was on her other side. She refused to let her mind go back to the 'farm' at every stomach cramp. It was the fact that they were back on Caprica that made her think of it, she was sure. Back on the _Galactica, _she had forgotten about the trauma, the memories of it. Another reason to hate the frakking President, she decided.

Speak of the devil. Laura was just behind Racetrack, her auburn hair swept back out of her face. Her jacket hung around her waist, her blouse covered in dirt where she had maybe tripped back there. Sympathy rose within Kara, but she fought it down angrily. Laura deserved it. She wanted them to come back here, she cost the life of one of her pilots. What did she expect? to be carried?

_The Old man wants you to take good care of her. What will he say when Laura goes back to him, telling him that you've been an absolute bitch to her?_

She pushed the thoughts away. She needed to focus on the mission. Looking around, Kara noticed that while she was thinking, the crew had taken the opportunity to stop for a minute. Helo was breathing heavily, searching for a bottle of water in his bag. Athena seemed to be the only one not affected by the distance they had covered. She hadn't even broke into a sweat. Kara sighed and stretched her arms, trying to take her mind off of the ache.

"How much," Laura took a moment to catch her breath, "farther until we reach the city?"

Kara wiped her brow, searching for a drink.

"about a mile." She retorted, finding a half full bottle of water. She took a long swig, feeling the cold water slide down her throat.

"I see, and when were you planning on telling me what i've done to make you so angry?"

Kara turned around slowly, not quite sure she heard correctly what Laura had said. The president stood, her eyes closed and face up, basking in the sunlight that was beating down on them. She paid no attention to Kara's reaction, but remained silent on the off chance that the young pilot would reply. She wanted to get the confrontation over with, knowing that the longer they put it off, the more explosive it could potentially be. Kara seemed the sort to hold grudges, and Laura did not want that.

"I'm here to do a mission. I'm going to complete it. Then we're going to get back to the fleet and i'm going to carry on my job, like i should be doing right _now. _Instead i'm babysitting _you._" Kara said angrily.

"Kara," Helo whispered quietly, "shut up _now._"

Kara turned to reply, but noticed Helo's expression. His finger was up by his mouth, indicating for her to be quiet. Athena and Racetrack slowly drew their guns. Kara couldn't understand what they hell they were doing. Then she heard it.

The faint snap of a twig, the rustling of leaves. Mechanical joints moving. Centurions.

"Frak," Kara muttered, quickly bringing her hands down to her side, searching for her gun. She unhooked it, holding it low. She couldn't see where they were, "Helo, where?"

Helo's gaze sweeped the treeline, before he shrugged slowly. They listened silently again, waiting for a sign. Just as Kara wondered if they had all imagined the sounds, their paranoia overcoming their basic senses, she heard a click behind her. Turning around, Kara's eyes met metal. A centurion gun looked her in the face. Her crew slowly raised their hands and Kara could see in the reflection off of the centurion that another had come up behind them, it's own guns aimed at Athena, Racetrack and Helo. Just as she went to raise her own hands, however, a voice rang out.

"frakking get down!"

The rest was a blur. The voice became distorted. She heard shots ring out, felt hot metal slice her cheek, before her body somehow dropped to the ground, her vision going black ...

....

It was a one-sided conversation and Admiral Adama was not impressed. He stood, his expression inscrutable, behind Verus as the prisoner made the call to The Pandora. Bill had at least expected to be able to glean some information from the man in front about the ship or the group in question. Instead, he had been on the receiving end to alot of 'yes', 'no' and 'yup'.

Verus seemed to be enjoying this fact immensely, keeping his answers short and secretive at the expense of the Admiral. He didn't seem to care about the situation before him, instead focusing on entertainment.

"Well," Verus said at last, breaking the monotonous conversation as he hung up the phone, "it's settled. They're expecting your engineer shortly."

"If you are planning anything, _anything,_" Adama emphasised, "i'll make sure your last view is of the outside of your very own ship. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly." Verus replied pleasantly, not flinching at the threat or the dangerous tone in Adama's voice.

Adama nodded, before turning around and leaving the brig. Verus watched his back as he left, a small smile playing on his lips.

....

"Admiral! I have a question-"

"-A Quarantine!? surely this is not-"

"-any news on the whereabouts of the president, Admiral!?"

"-how will the quarantine affect the tyllium reserves and-"

"-Admiral, please! what can you tell us about Laura Roslin-"

Adama stood in front of the microphone, eyes narrowed at the crowd surrounding him. They were like a pack, a group of predators wanting nothing more than to sink their teeth into a weaker person.

_frak it, i'm higher in this food chain, _he assured himself, before leaning to the microphone to speak.

"If i can make a statement-" He started but was rudely interrupted by a blonde reporter.

"Admiral, the President! where is she?"

"That's not your business."

His answer dissolved into the masses before him, causing an outcry.

"Not our business!?"

"Admiral, this is the _civilian leader-_"

"-has she been imprisoned again-"

"-this is a coup! it's a coup!"

Adama winced at their shouts. _Wrong choice of words_, he reprimanded himself, before sighing and proceeding to try again.

"_The Pandora _is under quarantine because it is a threat to the civilian fleet-"

"-a threat!? It's a refinery ship, Admiral-"

"-it's also home to a group of armed Cylon Sympathisers and i will not allow them the opportunity to spread their discontent throughout the rest of the ships."

"Admiral."

Adama heard the voice, cocky and confident. He tried his best to guard his expression, not letting himself show the loathing and contempt he felt for the man who was now parting the reporters in front of him like he was some kind of God.

Tom Zarek stepped forward, a smile on his lips.

"Mr Zarek?" Adama asked through gritted teeth, dreading what the self-assured politician would say.

"Forgive me for crashing this," he glanced around, "_party. _I figured that if you wouldn't personally answer my calls or agree to meet with me _at all,_ then you would gladly answer my concerns in front of the public eye."

_wrong._

"Your concerns." Adama repeated Zareks words, unsure of what he was going to ask.

"Is it safe in saying that The Pandora is a main threat to our fleet and so the quarantine is justified? I was on the Galactica when they attacked and I, as vice president, would just like to support you in your decision."

Adama was stunned, although his expression remained stoic. Why the frak was Zarek sticking up for him, in front of the media no less?

"Thankyou Mr Zarek. That is all."

Adama turned around slowly, moving back through the curtain that seperated the pack of predators from their prey.


	16. Chapter 16

"Her eyes are opening." Kara heard a voice, heavily distorted by the ringing in her own ears.

"What the frak?" She groaned, scrunching up her eyes in a desperate attempt to keep reality at bay. She couldn't remember what had happened. Something about a gun and metal ... someone shouted ... it disappeared in her mind, not letting her keep hold of the memory. Kara didn't want to open her eyes. What if she was knocked unconscious by skinjobs and she was back on a 'farm'? She didn't think she'd be able to handle that possibility. However, that voice seemed familiar...

"She's faking it Athena. She just wants to sleep. C'mon Starbuck, get up."

"Picking on an injured person? Just like you Racetrack," Kara replied, smiling slightly. Her throat was dry and her voice came out faint. She reluctantly opened her eyes, taking in the person looming above her.

Racetrack looked down at her, smiling. Kara realised that the sun was still out, and instinctively closed her eyes once more. She heard footsteps walk away from her, voices faint in the background. She wasn't going to get any peace.

"Alright, i'm up, i'm up." She pushed herself up slowly, supporting her weight on her forearms as she rolled over. The leaves were moist beneah her, giving off a pleasant scent. How was this even frakking possible after the nuclear destruction?

Pulling herself to her feet slowly, Kara lost balance and stumbled. She caught herself in time and stood still, taking deep breaths and looking around.

Athena and Helo stood, their guns raised at someone who Kara didn't recognise ...

Laura was sat down on a log a couple of feet away, her hands wearily rubbing her face. Racetrack was pulling a gun out of her own holster, walking over to Helo and looking suspiciously at the mysterious figure.

"Ok, what the frak is going on!?" Kara called out, her eyes narrowed at the scene in front of her.

Helo answered, his eyes never leaving the figure in front of him.

"We were attacked by two centurions. We were outgunned, thought we were done for. This man runs onto the scene, gun in hand, shot down a centurion. The other one took a swipe at you. You would've been a hundred feet away if the President hadn't of pulled you down in time. Anyway, this man turns on the other one and brings it down before we could even get our bearings."

Kara stood silently, processing the story. There was something about it that was unbelievable and as she stared at the figure, she realised what it was.

"_This man _took down 2 centurions?" She looked surprised. Focusing her attention on the figure, she took in his appearance.

The man in question was kneeling down on the leaves beneath him, hands on his head. He was balding, and his stomach stood out prominently. Sweat and dirt, infused together, were spread over one half of his face and his wiry glasses were askew. Not cylon busting material that was for sure.

"You're frakking kidding, right?" She asked Helo, waiting for the joke to be up. There was no way that man could have saved them. How the hell did he even know how to fire a gun?

"'fraid not," Helo replied, his face grim, "but he could be a cylon. It could all have been a set-up," He aimed his next question at the man in front, "what's your name?"

"Hawkes." The man replied, visibly shaking. He was obviously not used to having guns pointed at him and Kara felt a slight pang of sympathy.

"First name." Athena ordered, although her gun lowered ever so slightly.

"Er, Luca-Lucas," The man stuttered, "Lucas Hawkes, sir-ma'am." He winced in embarrassment, waiting for Athena to put a bullet in his head for this error.

"Frak me, what a moron." Kara heard Racetrack mutter. A voice, clear and authoritive, emanated from behind them.

"Put down your guns."

Laura Roslin stepped up into view, her arms crossed in front of her and she slowly moved forwards past the crew.

"Oh my gods," she whispered, her eyes wide in amazement, "Lucas?"

The man's head swivelled round, but stopped abruptly as he heard the safety being clicked off on Helo's gun. Kara watched as a bead of sweat ran down his face.

Laura gently placed her hand on Helo's gun and Kara noted that it was shaking slightly. She didn't comment however, and just watched as the President pushed the gun gently downwards and moved in front of the man.

"Lucas Hawkes." She looked at him, her eyes steely.

"Laura?" the man asked, amazement lacing his voice, "Laura Ro-Roslin, is it really you?"

Racetrack looked to Laura, indicating whether the man was safe. Laura, however, ignored them, her focus on the man in front.

"I would ask you a question to determine if you're human or cylon, but rumour has it," her eyes glittered in amusement, "that they even have our memories."

She looked up suddenly.

"Lt Agathon."

"Just Athena ma'am."

"Athena," Laura corrected herself slowly, emphasising the syllables, "i would like your view."

"I haven't seen this model if he is a cylon. As far as i know, he's human."

"Good cylon detector there Athena," Kara murmured, "more reliable than Baltar's old one."

Athena smirked in reply, before lowering her gun. Ractrack followed suit, putting it back in her holster.

Lucas Hawkes moved to get up, but Laura placed one of her shaking hands firmly on his shoulder.

"Not just yet Lucas," she said, looking down at him, her expression serious, "first, i need answers."

....

"Galactica, Apollo. On course to The Pandora. ETA two minutes."

_"Acknowledged Apollo," _His wife Dee's voice spoke warmly into his ear, professional but tinged with worry, "_Galactica out."_

Apollo smiled and turned the comm link off, his eyes drifting to the large ship in front. It wasn't the ugliest ship in the fleet, but it sure as hell left alot to be desired. The plain grey exterior was rusting, the painted letters indicating its reference number peeling away slowly. It obviously wasn't very important to the Colonies at the time, as it would have been repaired and redesigned.

"Right," Lee called out, gaining the attention of the handful of marines and the engineer in the back, "the plan is we get in, fix the leaks and get out ASAP. We don't want to outstay our welcome. Don't engage in conversation with anyone on the ship, chances are they're armed. We don't want to draw unnecessary fire. There are three reported leaks, one aft, the other two starboard."

The marines nodded as Lee continued on, and the engineer wiped his forehead continuously, obviously having drawn the short straw out of the entire Galactica Engine crew. Lee didn't want the man to be nervous. Nervous people made mistakes. His father had always drilled the importance of a steel facade into him. _If your hands shake when you go for your weapon, then you know you're well and truly frakked. _Another pearl of wisdom that William Adama had bestowed upon his son at an early age.

"Sometimes you gotta roll the hard six." Lee murmured, before turning his attention back to the ship in front.

"Right, we're nearly there. We'll land in ..." His voice trailed away, however, his eyes wide as he looked at the ship. It was moving faster than usual. In fact, it was getting unusually close. Was the ship meant to be going so far right?

"oh frak." Lee whispered as he watched the side of the ship move closer and closer. He seemed to snap to attention and lurched forwards, grabbing the controls, any of the controls. The raptor pilot to his left seemed to understand the urgency and quickly started pressing buttons.

"Pull back!" Lee roared, panicking, "frakking pull back! now!"

He went to flick a switch and saw his hands shaking. Lee looked up and watched as the Raptor tried valiantly to move backwards out of the way as the ship loomed ever nearer ...

_If your hands shake when you go for your weapon, then you know you're well and truly frakked._

Lee hit a switch and the whole Raptor lurched.


	17. Chapter 17

"How have you been surviving Lucas?" Laura asked the man, her curiosity and suspicion getting the better of her.

They were sitting down on old tree stumps, a small distance from the rest of the crew. Laura was angling for a bit of privacy when talking to Lucas Hawkes, but it seemed the crew had other ideas in mind. They were watching the two interact, their hands lightly resting on their weapons. Although Laura understood the need for security (particularly because of her job title), she was still slightly annoyed that everything they were saying was probably being heard. Lucas was valiantly trying to straighten his wiry glasses, but to no avail. With a defeated sigh, he placed them back on his face, taking care as he pushed them up onto the bridge of his nose.

"Right to the point, Laura. You _sure _you're a politician?"

Laura smiled in response, but it did not reach her eyes. Instead, she repeated the question.

"How have you been surviving?"

"Well i was away on a teacher's conference when the nukes struck," Lucas replied thoughtfully, trying to recollect what had happened, "came back to, well, _this. _I had a group with me once, we met up with some resistance fighters, frakking caprica buccaneers if you'd believe that!"

He laughed as he remembered it.

"What a way to meet _them_, huh? I wanted their autograph, they wanted food. Anywho, me an' the group were at their base for a while, but things got cramped, food became scarce, anti-radiation meds were practically non-existent. I decided i'd rather go out into the world then stay in that room and die. I wandered around for quite a bit, sheltered in a couple of houses here and there. Got lucky when i came across a pharmacy that was packed with anti-radiation meds."

Laura listened to his story with interest, taking in everything he was saying. So it was pure luck that he had survived? She couldn't help but feel that there was something else to it. He had been very risky, and the Cylons weren't stupid. To have gone this long without being caught, it raised questions. Laura noticed Lucas was looking at her, trying to gauge her reaction to the story he'd just told. She forced a smile and turned back to him.

"So you survived this long, I can accept that. Luck can bring you through on that one. However, you just _happen _to find us about to be fired upon by two centurions? Cutting it a little close, weren't you Lucas?"

"I'm as surprised as you are, i assure you Laura," Lucas admitted honestly, scratching his balding head, "I've been hidin' out in Delphi for the past couple of days now, and i overheard two people talking. A little guy and some hot woman. Anyway, they were talkin' bout a raptor that had landed, banged up pretty good. Said they followed some tracks into trees near here. I figured i'd try and get to you before they did, 'cos they didn't sound friendly."

"They're cylons. They look like us now. Surely you must have come across them before?" Laura enquired, not believing that the man had never seen a skinjob before.

"Nah, haven't had any trouble. One time there was lot's of cenutrions marchin' round. Now it's practically deserted. Every so often i see a patrol near the museum, but other than that-"

"-the museum?" Laura asked, her voice suddenly tight with anticipation.

"Yeah, every couple of hours a big metal centurion walks by. Sometimes they go in too. Not sure what they want to do in there, s'not like they care about our history."

Laura cleared her throat and pulled her glasses out of her jacket pocket. She placed them on carefully, before looking at the man in front of her.

"Thankyou Lucas, you've been a big help to us."

"My pleasure, Laura."

Laura stood up, dusting her trousers off. She then turned around and started to make her way back to the crew to relay the information she had gained. She was stopped, however, by Lucas' voice.

"Laura?"

"Yes, Lucas?" She asked politely, wanting to move away and talk to Starbuck and Athena.

"How many are there?"

Laura just looked at him, silently imploring him to continue.

"How many survivors are there?" He repeated, giving her the full question.

"About 41 thousand."

Lucas let out a low whistle and wiped his face with his hand.

"You like the President's aide now or somethin'?"

Laura smiled inwardly. Same old Lucas. When they taught together in the same school on Caprica, he had scoffed at her becoming Secretary of Education. He was a sweet man, but dim and slightly sexist. A woman shouldn't hold any titles of power in his world, especially a politician. Laura revelled in the thought of telling him what she was now.

"Aide?" She feigned surprise, before a genuine smile appeard on her face. It was one of confidence, "no Lucas, i _am _the President."

Lucas spluttered, trying to form a coherent sentence in his throat in response to the news. Before he could tell her to quit joking, however, Laura interrupted him.

"If that is all, Mr Hawkes. I must to go talk to my crew."

With one final triumphant look at him, Laura turned around and walked towards Helo and Racetrack, who were smiling slightly at their President getting one up on Lucas.

....

"You think he's telling the truth, Madam President?" Helo asked, looking over Laura's shoulder warily at Lucas.

"No Lt Agathon, i do not. However, he's not going to be telling us anything of importance anytime soon and he knows the way to the Delphi museum." Laura's voice was low, her eyesight fixated on a point above Helo's head. She was trying to look relaxed as she talked to him, not wanting to give anything away to Lucas through body language.

"Hold up," Racetrack cut in, looking outraged, "you want us to _follow _this man? He could lead us right into a trap!"

Laura was silent, weighing up the choices that were available to them.

"You're right, he could. However, i haven't yet told him why we are here. How is it possible for him to set up a trap when he doesn't know where we are going?"

"When we tell him to guide us to the museum, he's gonna know! Hawkes could communicate with the skinjobs somehow and we could all die!"

"Lt Edmundson," Laura replied slow and calm, "i hear what you're saying, i really do. That is why, when we follow Lucas, he is going to be watched constantly. I want full surveillance on the man, do i make myself clear?"

She hated pulling rank and orders on them, but they didn't seem to respond well to her suggestions and logic. The best way to keep the military in line was to give them orders. It worked well enough with the Admiral.

"Yes Madam President." Racetrack said dutifully, but Laura could see in the pilot's eyes that she still loathed the idea of following a suspicious civilian anywhere.

"Lieutenant," she turned back to Helo, "be ready to move out as soon as possible."

"Yessir." He gave a quick salute, before moving over to Athena to help get their gear together.

Laura then moved to head back towards Lucas, but stopped when a figure moved beside her. She looked to her left and was greeted by Starbuck, who was looking quite sullen.

"Kara." Laura gave a faint smile, but it wasn't reciprocated.

"Let's get this clear," Starbuck said, her voice low, "this is a stupid frakked up mission that i did _not _want to go on. I have lost too many people on this planet and now i've got one less pilot to bring back to the Galactica. You're the head of this mission and i will follow any order given to me, but i will _not _do it cheerfully or willingly. Just thought you should know my opinion on the matter, _sir._"

"Loud and clear." Laura replied sharply, her expression impassive at Starbuck's quiet tirade.

"Good," Starbuck turned around and started to walk off, but stopped suddenly. She reluctantly looked back at the President, before quietly saying, "thankyou for saving my life."

"You're welcome."


	18. Chapter 18

Lee walked cautiously down the dark corridor, his gun pointed towards the ground. The marines behind him followed suit, their eyes darting to see every crevice and shadow where a potential target could be lying in wait.

They formed a loose circle around the engineer that had travelled with them. He looked alot calmer now he was on the ship, compared to when he was in the Raptor. He was looking ahead of him warily, as if expecting a group of men to run around the next corner, guns blazing.

"Calm down," Lee muttered to the engineer, seeing his alert eyes, "if anyone runs out at us armed, we'll take care of it."

"Yessir." The engineer agreed quickly, afraid that his obvious worry had offended Lee.

They took slow, measured steps, careful to keep their breathing even. The echoes and creaking of the old ship was making it difficult for them to hear anything or anyone. Lee thought it strange that the docking bay was empty, the corridors near there completely desolate. His father had got Verus to call ahead, to tell them that a group of marines and an engineer were heading over. Lee wasn't expecting a warm reception, but he was expecting at least one person to be waiting there, guiding them through the corridors.

Instead, there was nothing. The only company was the ship itself, which deafened the group with its rumbling and creaking.

"frak." A marine behind Lee swore quietly as he caught his boot on a bit of piping that was sticking out. Lee silenced the man with a signal as his ears picked up something. He could have sworn he had heard laughter. Muffled by the ship and the echoes of their travels, but still audible. Lee slowly brought his gun up, focusing it on the corridor ahead. Metal grates groaned in protest beneath his feet as he walked slowly forwards, intent on not making a sound.

There it was again. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out shapes in front, but it was too dark. The marines behind him followed suit and their footsteps were silent, leaving the engineer breathing erratically as he sensed the danger.

Lee took a hand off of his gun and placed it slowly on the engineers mouth. The engineer's eyes widened but he did not put up any resistance.

"There's someone up ahead." Lee's voice was barely audible, and the marines had to strain their ears to hear what he was saying. They nodded at his observation and trained their guns ahead of them, waiting.

The laughter grew louder, and it was accompanied by heavy footsteps. They obviously knew that Lee, the marines and the engineer were in the corridor and were confident that they would not be fired upon.

_What a bad mistake to make, _Lee thought as he made sure his gun was ready to fire. Whoever was coming round the corner in a few seconds sure as hell wasn't friendly, he could tell that much.

Lee pushed the engineer back and the Marines came forward, keeping him from harm's way. Lee took point, looking into the scope on his gun.

Seconds went by, the sound of footsteps getting louder and louder. Nearly time now. Lee clicked the safety off of his gun and waited with a steady breath.

The person never came round the corner. Instead, a faint rattling was heard and Apollo watched as a small object rolled towards them. It clattered against the metal grates, but carried on it's journey, stopping a mere ten feet away from Lee.

"Oh frak me," Lee muttered as he realised what the object was. He took a step back and pushed the Marines back with him, "retreat! back round the corner!"

The marines jumped into action, tugging the engineers arms as they ran back down the corridor they were working their way through. Lee followed hot on their heels, yelling as he heard a massive explosion and felt heat overtake him. With one last burst of energy, he threw himself forwards, hoping to limit the damage done to him.

He could feel the heat wash over him, stinging his skin. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but luckily he had avoided the brunt of the explosion. Lee groaned and lifted himself up quickly, stumbling forwards and round the corner towards the waiting marines. They were up against the wall, backs pressed to the bulkhead, waiting for a signal, something to tell them to open fire. They didn't have to wait long. The sound of the ship was silenced by something louder, something more imminent. Bullets hit the bulkhead beside them, some skimming the corner near the marines. They looked towards Lee, eagerly awaiting his command.

"Open fire." He ordered, his voice hard. The marines complied, taking it in turns to step away from the wall and angle themselves round the corner, trying to get a good shot at the threat they were facing. From what the marines could see and relay to him, Lee suspected that there were three armed men firing at them. He put a hand quickly to his earpiece and hoped that the Galactica would be able to hear him.

....

"Sir! Apollo is on the line!" Gaeta shouted hurriedly, looking towards the Admiral. Adama was standing at the centre table, signing various pieces of paper shoved under his nose. He looked up quickly at Gaeta's announcement, and heard Tigh next to him mutter;

"Only a few minutes since he docked, that can't be good."

"Put him up on speaker." Adama ordered. He kept his expression inscrutable, although his stomach clenched uneasily. There was always the risk when he sent his son or Starbuck on a mission. They had been lucky so many times, surviving seemingly impossible tasks. A part of Bill thought of them both as invincible. This was the part of him that sent them out on the missions in the first place. They would always get it done, get back in one piece. Whether it was on _The Pandora _or on Caprica itself, they would come back alive to him. However, there was also always a part of him that worried constantly. Their luck would run out one of these days, like so many pilots before them. They were human after all, nothing special, just damn good at their jobs. He tried to keep that part of him subdued, pushed to the back of his mind until he knew both Lee and Kara were home safe.

The speaker crackled, static audible throughout the entire CIC.

_"Galactica actual, this is Apollo." _Lee came through clearly, his voice urgent.

"What the frak is going on Lee?" Adama asked curtly, looking up at the dradis console above his head, "_The Pandora _has broken its current course. Have you met resistance?"

_"You could say that," _Lee's voice replied quickly, _"We're being pinned down. We have three armed men keeping us in place, they have grenades."_

Tigh looked towards Adama, his jaw clenched in anger.

"Motherfrakker," He spat out, "Verus set us up! He told them they were on their way! It broke it's trajectory to give all the frakkers on board a chance to suit up! They need to pull out-"

"-No," Adama interrupted shortly, his hand clenching the table below him until his knuckles turned white, "we need that ship for fuel. The leaks have to be repaired."

"If you think they're only facing three armed guys ..."

"There will be more, i know. Lee can handle it." Adama replied quietly, before raising his voice once more to talk to Lee.

"Apollo, your orders are to take the armed men out, show them no mercy. We need the leaks repaired ASAP."

The comm crackled and Adama could have sworn he heard gunshots, before Lee replied.

_"Acknowledged Galactica. Will talk again when leaks are fixed, Apollo out."_

The comm cut out, leaving CIC in silence. The crew looked towards the Admiral and the XO, gauging the reactions of the two men.

"You really think Lee will come through, Bill?" Tigh murmured, his good eye piercing the Admiral facade. Adama continued to look at the console in front. The part of him that feared the loss of his son was forcing its way to the front of his thoughts, but he succeeded in once more pushing it back.

"He'll be fine."


	19. Chapter 19

"You know, it's so good to see you again Laura." Lucas said honestly as he walked next to her.

"It's good to see you too." Laura replied, giving him a tight smile. She looked away and slowly pushed further forwards, not wanting to hold the entire group up just to share sentiments with an old friend. Lucas, however, didn't seem to understand this and hurriedly caught up with her, still chatting amiably.

"Thought i'd never see a human face again, y'know?" he glanced casually over to her and Laura felt slightly disgusted at the gleam in his eyes. She sighed inwardly and hoped to the gods that he would not do or say anything awkward. A fan, just what she needed.

"How much further until we reach the museum, Hawkes?" Athena called out from behind and Laura felt relief flood through her. Sharon must have heard where the conversation was heading and decided to help her out. It was times like this when Laura wished Athena wasn't a cylon.

"Err," Lucas was caught off guard and squinted into the distance. They were on a main road in Delphi, but you wouldn't know that from what was left. Ruins, broken buildings, a thick air filled with dust. It was an overbearing sight, the dull sepia colours creating a claustrophobic atmosphere, "'bout twenty minutes i think."

"Great." Starbuck rolled her eyes as she walked in front.

"Manners would go a really long way." Lucas replied, hearing the thick sarcasm in Kara's reply. Laura stifled a laugh at Lucas' indignance. Did he not realise who he was reprimanding? They'd only been travelling together for a couple of hours, but already Lucas had managed to somehow get on the wrong side of Starbuck, not that it took alot of effort.

"Here are my manners," Kara pulled out her pistol and flaunted it over her shoulder, her head turned slightly so he was in eyeline, "you don't like it then go frak yourself _Mr Hawkes._"

"Gods, what have i done wrong?" Lucas whispered to Laura, who merely smiled, "you'd think i'd just insulted her."

"Starbuck is," Racetrack struggled for the right words, "tempremental."

"She's frakking crazy," Lucas shook his head, before calling out, "take a left here!"

Starbuck and Helo up front acknowledged him with a wave of their hands and pointed their guns at the small road to their left. They still didn't trust Lucas, despite the fact that no cylon execution party had greeted them yet.

_"You're so close now Laura Roslin."_

Laura's head whipped round, searching for the location of the voice. None of the crew had even acknowledged the voice, continuing their travels, heads down in concentration.

"No," Laura whispered, her eyes widening, "not when i'm awake aswell. Not when i'm awake."

_"Hurry Laura."_

"Madam President, are you alright?" She heard Athena's concerned voice and felt a hand securely grab her arm, but it seemed so distant.

_The woman was weak, sweat clinging to her face. Her eyes were bloodshot, her lips cracked and bleeding. She seemed to look straight at the entity that was Laura, her eyes piercing._

_"Please hurry." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, but it was insistent, urgently calling for help. She needed anti-radiation meds and fast. The cylons were not there, but it didn't matter. They didn't need to finish her off, just wait patiently until she died on her own accord. _

"Madam President!"

Laura felt her chest constrict and she started to cough, lightly at first but it soon turned constant and she struggled valiantly to breathe. A hand thumped on her back, making her whole body reverberate. After a while, the coughing eased off and she felt herself able to regain her breath. There was silence around her as everyone waited patiently to carry on their journey. She felt slightly embarrassed at being the centre of attention, but shook it off. She was the President, when _didn't _she have the spotlight?

Helo took a step forwards and stood in front of Laura, holding out his hand. Laura shook her head slightly and got to her feet herself.

"Are you okay ma'am?" He asked, his brow furrowed in concern, "you just sort of collapsed and started coughing."

"I'm fine," her voice was faint and her throat felt raw, but she carried on regardless, "how long until we reach the museum, Mr Hawkes?" She turned towards Lucas, her eyes cold. She didn't have time for rough estimates and guesses. She needed to get to the Museum _now._

"About fifteen minutes this way," Starbuck replied quickly before Lucas had the chance, seeing that the President wanted a straight answer, "it's the fifth building on the left."

Laura turned towards Starbuck, questioning the pilot's knowledge on the matter.

"I flew over this road in the Raider, parked it right outside the building."

"She's right," Racetrack called out from behind and the crew turned towards her. She was holding up the map of the city, her finger pointing out a small building, "it's right here. Fifth building on the left."

"Then let's get moving." Laura replied, crossing her arms and turning back towards the road in front.

"Wait!" Starbuck turned to Laura, her voice lowering to a whisper as she moved closer to the President, "Madam President. Our raptor got beat up pretty bad in the ride down here. What are your suggestions on transport out of this place?"

"I hadn't thought that far." Laura admitted honestly.

"Ma'am," Helo placed a hand on her shoulder and Laura looked at him, "I have an idea."

"Go ahead Lt Agathon."

"The majority of the cylons have gone," he explained quietly, "but there are obviously still some left. They had an air base here in Delphi, Sharon and I went to it the last time. It's not too far from here. Send me and Sharon over there and we can hopefully find a Cylon heavy raider."

Laura silently contemplated the idea. It was good, probably the only chance they had of succesfully getting off the planet.

"Get the raider and bring it here as soon as possible."

"Yessir." Helo saluted and turned to Athena, filling her in on the plan.

"Kara," President Roslin turned to Starbuck, indicating that she should lead the way, "if you would take us to the museum."

"My pleasure," Kara replied, walking down the road quickly. When she realised that no-one else was following her, she turned around angrily, "c'mon people! Move like you have a frakking purpose!"

....

"I think they're heading for the museum." Six said softly, looking down at the humans below them. Pathetic creatures really, scrambling around beneath them.

"Our source is not doing a very good job," Doral replied grimly, also looking down at them, "but i agree. It's the only building around here that is worthwhile and holds some value to them."

The two Cylons moved cautiously closer to the edge, just enough to get a better look but not too far out so the humans could look up and spot them. They had been oblivious to the two cylons tracking them this whole time, it would not be good for Doral and Six to destroy it and be spotted now.

"Wait a minute," Six murmured, looking confused, "there were six of them before, but i can only see four. The man and the eight, they're gone."

"What?" Doral asked sharply, his eyes scanning the group. She was right, the two had disappeared.

"Should we try and track them down?"

"No," Doral replied, annoyance obvious on his features, "let them go. We follow our source."

"What if they're going back to their Raptor and getting off the planet?" Six asked, turning to Doral.

"They wouldn't leave without _her,_" He pointed towards the auburn haired woman, who was talking quietly to one of the human pilots, "besides, we have centurions placed at their Raptor. They won't get away alive."

"I know that blonde," Six suddenly announced, her eyes wide in recognition, "she's the one that killed me. In the museum, she killed me."

"I remember that. I was there when you resurrected," Doral muttered absently, "you seemed pretty upset about it, Six."

"I want another chance." The Six gritted her teeth in anger, wanting nothing more than to jump down there and snap the blonde woman's neck where she stood.

"Calm down, you'll get your chance. Be patient."


	20. Chapter 20

Tom Zarek considered himself a patient man. For instance, when the Admiral of the Fleet refused to take his calls, he didn't snap and get on the first shuttle over to the Galactica, or even leave a message with what he wanted to say. Instead, Zarek liked to play it his own way. He had realised by now that no matter what he said, no matter what good deed he performed, Admiral Adama was never going to trust him. Zarek had expected as much, he was more than surprised that President Roslin had even started to trust him (although he suspected she made him Vice-President just to placate him and keep him on the sidelines).

When Zarek once again had Dualla telling him coldly that the Admiral had no time to speak to him, he put the phone down gently and considered his options. He had only wanted to check the status of the Quarantine on _The Pandora, _hardly a long and tedious conversation. The tyllium ship was a threat to the fleet as far as he was concerned, and he couldn't fathom why Adama was still trying to fix the fuel leaks. If it was up to Zarek, he would have Jumped away without them, left them to the Cylons who were no doubt tracking this leak.

The Admiral seemed to under-estimate the danger that the ship posed, but Zarek didn't. What Adama also seemed to under-estimate was the connections that Vice President Zarek had. He could easily have that ship destroyed without it even being tracked back to him, but it was too risky, especially as it was rumoured that Lee Adama was onboard it, trying to fix the problem.

Instead he considered other options. As he was the acting civilian authority at that moment in time, Tom decided that he should do _something, _especially if Adama wouldn't. There was no way that the three fuel leaks would be fixed without a problem, and there was also no doubt that the Cylon Sympathisers would start a new attack soon enough. He needed to do something _now._

Tom Zarek picked up the phone and reclined in the Presidents chair. It was very comfortable, almost as if it was meant for him, not that he'd say that in front of Laura Roslin of course. That would be political suicide.

A voice spoke on the other end of the line, alert and loud as gunfire echoed in the background.

_"Hello?"_

"It's Tom."

_"Mr Zarek. What can i do for you?"_

"Are you alone?"

_"For now. Gunfire is outside the control room. What do you need?"_

"I have a very special order for you."

Tom smiled as he muttered his orders down the phone line.

....

"Sir, fixed the first leak!" The engineer shouted breathlessly, running to Lee Adama's side.

"Good," Lee replied, before taking a quick look round the corner of the corridor, "one down, two to go. Let's move out."

He indicated that the marines should go in front and they followed his order obediently. There were three marines left, their guns steady and their adrenaline through the roof.

"Sir, clear!" One marine called out, creeping down the corridor. Lee pushed the engineer out in front of him, and kept his back to the group, covering their progress.

"Take the next left here, it should be where the second leak is!"

"Yessir."

They were met by two armed Cylon Sympathisers, sweat beading their brows but smiles on both of their faces.

"Demand Peace!" One yelled, before squeezing the trigger. A burst of shots ricocheted off of the bulkhead to their left and the marines crouched down to steady their aim and reduce their target size. Lee grabbed the engineer by his collar and threw him to the floor, before aiming his gun at one of the enemies and pulling the trigger, causing the man to fall back, blood staining his shirt.

The marines, in unision, shot at the last man. He collapsed against the bulkhead behind him and his legs crumpled beneath him, causing him to hit the floor noisily.

Lee breathed out heavily, before looking at the engineer at his feet. The man was pale and shaking, trying his hardest not to have a complete breakdown at the situation.

"Why me?" he moaned to himself, shakily standing up.

Lee patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Because you're wearing a Galactica uniform," he replied, in a clumsy attempt to comfort the obviously shaken man, "that means you're brave and willing to risk your life for the crew and the civilian fleet. You could well be saving us all."

The engineer smiled slightly, though he continued to shake. He walked towards the end of the corridor, and got started working on the second leak, while Lee and the Marines covered him.

....

They were outside the museum and it looked just like it did in Laura's last vision. This was good because it meant that the woman would be in there, still alive hopefully. If there was _something _good about her visions, it was that they always seemed to be up-to-date.

Taking a few minutes to catch her breath, Laura's eyes travelled over the exterior of the museum and she tried to remember when she had last visited it, before the Cylons had attacked.

"Madam President," Racetrack asked her quietly, "are you ready to go in?"

Laura took one more moment to look at it, before turning her gaze to Racetrack, "yes i'm ready."

"You err, you want to go in _now?_" Lucas interrupted the quiet moment, his voice shaking slightly.

"Yeah, we do," Starbuck replied, her eyes narrowing, "have you got a problem with that?"

Sweat gathered on his forehead, and he wiped it away quickly with the back of his hand, "no err, not at all. It's just ... well there could be centurions in there or something!"

"Well according to _you, _the patrols are a couple of hours from now. If there _are _any toasters in there, then you would know about it." Starbuck continued to look at him suspiciously. There was something going on with him, something not quite right ...

"Well yes," Lucas flustered, "i did say that didn't I? Okay, let's go in then."

Laura slowly walked up the steps to the museum, each footstep causing a cloud of dust to rise up. When she got to the big doors, now broken and destroyed, she waited for the two pilots to stand at either side of her.

"Madam President," Starbuck murmured quietly, trying her best to keep Lucas out of the conversation, "when we get in there, i'm gonna have a look around. There is something not right about this."

"Do what you feel you have to, Kara," Laura replied, "I am going to find who i am looking for."

Starbuck bit back a reply. There was definitely something not right about what was going on around here. No cylon sightings since Lucas started travelling with them, his sudden nerves when they reached the museum, there was a pattern forming that Kara didn't like the look of.

Instead of questioning Laura's decision, Starbuck merely nodded and pulled her gun out of the holster, before pushing one of the doors to the museum open slowly.


	21. Chapter 21

Adama sat opposite Verus, raw fury in his eyes. Verus didn't react to this hatred-filled gaze, instead cheerfully inspecting the handcuffs that chained him to the table in front.

"Admiral, i don't have all day-" he started to casually say, but was cut off by a low growl.

"-you have as long as i decide. Give me one reason _right now,_" Adama whispered menacingly, "why i shouldn't have you thrown out the airlock."

"Because you know that if you do," Verus replied, his demeanour still calm and relaxed, "i will be a Martyr to my cause."

Adama regarded the man silently, his teeth clenched together in a futile attempt to keep himself in check. There was something about Verus that made Adama want to just overturn the table and wring his neck. However, he settled for clenching his fist and staring the man out.

"You might have possibly cost the lives of five marines, an engineer and my son," He ground out, "any words on the matter, Mr Verus?"

"You should have known better than to board _The Pandora _with armed marines. My men were only defending themselves-"

"-From what!?" Adama shouted, his voice hoarse, "from a frakking engineer who wanted to fix fuel leaks!? What the frak did you think you could achieve from arming civilians and attacking my men!?"

"We don't want to _achieve _anything, Admiral. We just want a chance to bring Cylons and humans together in peace. When they come to us via the fuel leaks, you can meet them, you can _see _that they're good people really."

Adama smiled at the man in front, a smile that did not reach his eyes.

"I will not negotiate with a frakking cylon."

"You'd rather let the entire human race die than-"

Verus didn't have the chance to finish his sentence. Adama was on his feet, rounding the table in a matter of seconds before pulling him up by his collar. Verus' eyes widened slightly when he felt a firm, tense grip around his neck. Adama's face was inches away from his own, and it was in that moment that Verus was truly afraid of the man choking him. There was no longer the stoic facade. Taking its place was a face contorted in anger, burning eyes boring right through him. His fingers tightened and Verus felt his breathing turn erratic and his body was sending out warnings. He coughed and tried valiantly to draw breath, but Adama didn't let him, keeping his hand firmly in place.

"You listen to me," Adama whispered threateningly, "we need Tyllium and so we need your ship. Being a fair man, i'm willing to come to a agreement. The ship will survive, but i will send in marines and kill every frakking one of you. Sound fair, Verus?"

Verus could do nothing but shake his head, wanting desperately to be able to breathe again.

"Didn't think it did. Now you _know _that i will do that, if i have to. If the Cylons find us, i _know _that they will do the same thing. The Cylons are the enemy, not some frakking haven for the human race. Do i make myself clear?"

Verus nodded quickly, feeling himself slipping from consciousness.

"Good." The pressure on Verus' throat suddenly vanished and he fell to the floor, gagging and coughing. He sucked in as much air as he could hold, massaging his throat where Adama's hand had previously constricted around it.

_"Attention, this is the XO. Set condition one throughout the fleet. I repeat, set condition one throughout the fleet."_

Verus turned his head slightly and watched as Adama strode out of the brig, the Marines slamming the hatch shut behind the Admiral.

....

Laura peered into the main foyer cautiously, expecting to see the gleaming red eye of a centurion. There was something about the place, the silence and the wide spaces, that made her shiver slightly. It would be the perfect place for an ambush, that was for sure. So many places to hide. The centurions could be pointing guns at her right now, she _was _the perfect target after all. One lone woman, unarmed, in a big foyer. She was surprised that she was still alive.

Pushing past an old desk, now broken and covered in dust, Laura made her way towards the end of the foyer, looking for the part where there was a big hole in the ceiling. It was near the case that held the Arrow of Apollo, she knew that much. Surely it couldn't be too hard to find? Just as the thought floated through her mind, Laura looked up and saw it. About twenty feet in front of her, sunlight poured in, hitting the ground level floor and casting shadows of all the ruins that happened to be in the light.

She moved quickly, walking around the rubble and stepped into the sunlight.

Lucas followed her in and Racetrack was right behind him, gun out and looking warily around the room they were in. Laura could tell that she wasn't happy about all the crevices and potential hiding spots. However, Laura pushed Racetrack and Lucas out of her thoughts and concentrated solely on finding the woman. She recalled the exact place she would have been sitting from her visions, but when she looked there, there were only empty syringes and old tin boxes left. _This can't be right, _Laura thought desperately, _she was right here._

"Laura Roslin." It was faint, little more than an exhale, but Laura picked up on it, turning her head in the direction of her name. A woman sat, covered in darkness, her hands wrapped around her waist and her head lolling back against a cracked wall.

"My gods." Laura murmured, moving over and kneeling down in front of her. She put a shaky hand inside her suit pocket and pulled out a full syringe. Her anti-radiation medicine. She was meant to take it before, but it looked as if the woman needed it more than she did. With precision and care, Laura gently pulled one of the woman's arms away from her waist and rolled up the dirty sleeve. She plunged the needle in and quickly pressed down, releasing the medicine into her system. The woman gasped as Laura tugged the needle out, and her eyes shot open.

"Stay with me," Laura said quietly, trying to get the woman to focus on her, "we can get you out of here. I need you to stay awake."

The woman started to murmur, her voice raw and almost silent. Laura leaned in carefully, trying to hear what she was saying.

"Laura ... Roslin," she said, her voice coming out in short rasps, "a disease ... once cured ... twice inflicted .... "

Laura shivered slightly, but carried on listening intently.

"... an unmarked viper .... brings with it ..... death for you all .... another .... another five exist ..... an eye .... an eye will lead you ...."

Her voice faded away into nothing more than faint breathing. Laura slowly reached out and her hand cupped the woman's cheek, trying to gauge if she was going to keep alive long enough for them to get off the planet with her. The woman gasped once again and this time her voice was stronger, more assured. She grabbed Laura's hand, but Laura felt no fear or foreboding. The woman wasn't going to hurt her, she was going to warn her.

"It's a trap!" The words ripped from her throat, loud and clear, causing Laura to jump slightly. Her eyes closed and her head fell back against the wall behind her, all life gone from her body. Laura placed her fingers to the woman's neck, trying desperately to find a pulse, something to tell her that she was alive. Nothing.

Racetrack looked around wildly, before shouting "motherfrakker!" and pointing her gun at the level above. The sound of metal hitting the floor, of machine parts whirring, greeted them from above. As they were distracted by the centurion looking down at them, guns aimed, another Centurion took the chance to walk in to the room, followed by two people. The man was short with dark hair and Laura recognised him instantly. Doral. The other person was a tall woman, whose hair reflected white in the light surrounding them. She was the model known only as Six. Laura stood up slowly, not wanting to alarm the cylons.

"Frak," Racetrack muttered, wiping sweat from her brow. She was just as scared as Laura was, though she refused to show it. It was her duty, after all, to protect people from the enemy. She turned around, her gun pointing at each individual cylon, before settling on the centurion on the ground level. It, in turn, stared straight at her with it's gleaming red eye, as if daring Racetrack to shoot it.

"Nicely played Lucas," Doral stated, breaking the tense silence around them, "you did well."

"You frakking son of a bitch!" Racetrack turned her head to look at Lucas, her expression filled with hatred.

"Calm down, Lt Edmundson." Laura called out slowly, her voice solid and reassuring, not a trace of worry in it.

Racetrack fell silent, looking back at the Centurion. Lucas quickly jogged to stand behind Doral and Six, looking sheepish and guilty. Laura felt nothing but disgust as she watched him hide behind the Cylons. He had always been a weak man, ever since she first met him. Not teacher material at all.

"Lucas," Laura asked calmly, "why did you do it? Why make a deal with the devil?"

"They found me Laura," Lucas replied shakily, justifying his actions, "they found me as soon as i went off on my own. I begged them, pleaded with them not to kill me, but there was one guy, an old one, a priest i think, who wanted to shoot me there and then. Some of the others managed to- to convince him that i could be useful."

Laura gave a tight smile and shook her head slowly.

"We all want to survive Lucas, but this ..." She looked around at the situation in front of her. She couldn't quite grasp that Lucas would gladly have them killed in exchange for his own life. Only Gaius Baltar would do something so selfish, she was sure of it.

"They'll kill you Lucas. You know that, don't you? As soon as we're out of the picture, you'll be next. They'll have no use for you anymore."

Lucas remained silent, wiping the sweat from his balding head. He was shaking and Laura could see that he was in distress, but she felt no sympathy for the man, just anger.

A sudden burst of bullets echoed above them, and everyone looked up in surprise, wondering what was going on. Even Doral and Six looked up, and this told Laura that whatever was happening up there wasn't planned. As quickly as the sudden barrage of bullets started, it stopped. However, what also stopped with it was the distinct noise of the cylon centurion. It was all quiet on the level above.

"What was that?" Doral asked aloud, looking up in mild concern. He didn't need to keep focused on Laura or Racetrack because the centurion was doing that for him.

"It was probably the blonde," Six sneered, taking a step forward, her delicate hand curling into fists, "where is she?"

"Right here."

Laura couldn't see what happened precisely, it went so quick. All she could make out was a flurry of green and blonde drop from the floor above and she heard the sickening crunch of bones being snapped, before the Six crumpled and fell to the floor, her head in an unnatural position. Starbuck stood over her, gun drawn and a dark smile on her face.

"Best two out of three, looks like i win. Who's next?"

It was then that hell broke loose.


	22. Chapter 22

"Sitrep!" Adama roared, striding into the centre of CIC.

"One cylon basestar on approach, sir!"

"Send out the emergency vipers! Gaeta, fire up main batteries and target the Basestar!"

"Yessir!" Gaeta replied quickly, turning back to the controls before him.

"Folowed those frakking fuel leaks!" Tigh shouted, slamming his hand onto the desk in front. Adama didn't jump at this sudden outburst and merely looked at his XO calmly.

"Dee, get me Apollo on the line." Adama stated, turning his head in the direction of Dee.

"Apollo is now on the line, sir." Dee replied, flicking a switch in front of her.

Adama picked up the phone in front, and pulled it roughly up to his ear. His son's voice came through clearly and he felt a weight off of his shoulders.

"Apollo, this is Galactica Actual. Get on your raptor and return to Galactica."

_"I hear you Galactica. Have just fixed second leak and am moving onto third leak now. After we've fixed it we can-"_

"There isn't time for that, Lee!" Adama replied coldly, "We have a basestar in range. Get off that frakking ship now!"

_"There's only more leak dad and if we fix that then the ship can Jump with us! I thought you were the one that said you wanted the fuel-"_

The comm system cut out and Adama cursed silently, placing the phone back down. They needed that Tyllium refinery ship, but if Lee didn't get off it soon, then he'd be well and truly frakked.

"Order the civilian fleet to Jump to emergency coordinates," Adama called out, "but keep _The Pandora _right where it is. We can't risk the ship Jumping and the basestar tracking them and Jumping with them."

"Bill, we can hold off the basestar for only so long. If the Presient isn't on her way back right now, they'll have no chance of getting here in time. D'you know how many Jumps that is?" Tigh muttered, so only Adama could hear.

"They'll get here." Adama said, looking up at the flashing red dot on dradis.

....

Laura could only watch helplessly as the events unfolded around her.

Doral turned quickly towards Kara, who was standing calmly over the dead Six, her guns drawn. He shouted something, but Laura couldn't hear what it was, before pulling a gun out from his side and pointing it directly at Starbuck. Kara could only turn her head and look on in surprise as Doral's finger twitched around the trigger.

A shot rang out. Doral's eyes widened and a groan escaped his lips, followed very shortly after by a small trickle of blood. It ran down from his mouth to his chin as he collapsed to his knees, his hands coming out to try and slow his fall. It was a futile gesture from a dying cylon. It wouldn't matter if he hurt himself on the fall down, he was already marked for death. Doral let gravity take hold of him and his entire body hit the floor, lifeless.

Laura looked around wildly, wondering who had killed Doral. Starbuck stood, gun still at her side, looking at the now dead cylon who had previously had her targeted. She showed no signs of having lifted the gun at all and taking a shot. Not even Starbuck was _that _fast at shooting. Turning her head, she caught the eyes of Lucas, who stood directly behind Doral. His arm was up, shaking slightly and in his hand was a gun, pointing directly where Doral had stood.

"Lucas." Laura whispered, surprised. He seemed to have heard her whisper and his eyes now focused on the President. Lucas smiled resignedly, and she felt her chest constrict once more, but this time it wasn't followed by a coughing fit. He had done a good deed, and they both knew that he was about to die for it.

As if sensing their thoughts, the last standing cenutrion turned and it's red eye seemed to look straight through Lucas before it raised it's guns and fired.

"frak you!" Racetrack screamed, and she squeezed the trigger of her pistol. Standard ammo wasn't the most effective thing to use against a metal centurion, but it did do well in distracting it. However, it looked to be too late and Laura watched, her mouth open in protest, as Lucas hit the floor, like the Doral before him.

The centurion turned back to Racetrack, feeling nothing as the bullets dented its armour. It raised one of its guns and sent a cascade of bullets at Racetrack who just managed to throw herself to the ground in time to miss any fatal shots.

She didn't get back up though. She clutched at her arm, wincing as pain lanced through it. Pulling her hand away, she saw blood, lots of blood. One of the bullets must have hit her arm. Racetrack bit her lip to keep herself from crying out, and pushed her hand down harder to stem the bleeding.

Starbuck stepped in, taking a few cautious steps forward with her gun raised. The centurion didn't seem to see her, instead fixing its attention on the next visible target; Laura.

Laura seemed unfazed by the guns pointed at her. She was rooted to the ground, knowing that moving was futile. Instinct told her to drop to the ground, to do _something. _With alot of effort, she overrode the human instinct and remained where she was, arms folded in front of her.

Starbuck shot at the cenutrion in an effort to distract it from the President. She aimed for it's head, hoping to take it down with her standard ammo, but the bullets just seemed to scrape the exterior metal before ricocheting off in all directions. If centurions could somehow have a facial expression, Kara would have bet that it was disinterested at the most as she shot at it.

"Madam President!" She shouted out over the noise of the gunfire, "get down, _now!_"

Laura ignored her, staring straight ahead at the guns of the centurion. Surely it couldn't end this way? This was not how it was meant to end. She was meant to get back to _The Galactica, _sit down with some Ambrosia and have a nice long talk with Admiral Adama about what the woman had said. Then they would continue on their course and eventually find earth. She wasn't about to die in a derelict museum like this.

The noises around her were muffled and she couldn't work out what was being said to her. All she could see was the barrel of the gun pointed at her and the gleaming red eye of the centurion.

Its head exploded, sparks flying out in all directions. With a great heavy clang, it fell forwards and Laura felt herself let out a long exhale that she didn't realise she was holding. Both Starbuck and the President looked towards the door where the shot had come from and saw as Helo slowly entered, gun raised, closely followed by Athena.

"How the frak ...?" Kara couldn't form a coherent sentence, wiping her face on her sleeve.

"Explosive rounds," Helo replied, his jaw unclenching, "picked them up from our supplies. Figured we'd need them."

Starbuck nodded mutely, before turning towards where Racetrack had fallen.

"Helo, you got any medkits on you!?" She shouted, striding through the rubble and centurion parts to reach the fallen pilot. She knelt down beside Racetrack and pulled the arm out towards her. Racetrack groaned and Starbuck held it more gently, inspecting the wound.

"frak me," Laura heard her mutter, before looking back up at Helo, "c'mon Helo! you got a medkit or not!?"

"Medkits are back in the woods, Starbuck." Helo replied apologetically, holstering his weapon. Athena ran forwards to join Starbuck.

"We need something to put pressure on the wound."

Laura tuned out the rest of the conversation, her gaze caught by a body in front of her. Lucas. Her legs were shaky, but she managed to make them move and slowly walked over to Lucas Hawkes where he had fallen. His eyes were open, staring wide and his mouth was set in a grim line. Although she knew it was impossible, Laura still placed two of her fingers to the man's neck, searching desperately for a pulse. There was none. She hummed to herself, feeling tears sting her eyes. He wasn't a bad man and he didn't deserve to die in such a way.

"Madam President!" Athena called out.

Laura looked up and saw the crew making their way towards the door, Racetrack wincing slightly as blood soaked through the make-shift sling she was wearing. Athena stopped and was looking towards Laura, indicating that they had to leave.

Laura closed Lucas' eyes, staring at his now lifeless face. She slowly picked up a stone that rested near his head, her hand caressing it. It was smooth, something that would have been completely ignored if Caprica hadn't been destroyed. It was just a stone after all, there were plenty more out there. She placed it slowly in her pocket, patting it reassuringly. Stones were now a rare commodity, something you just didn't see in the dead of space (unless it was an asteroid, and Laura wanted to laugh at the thought of someone trying to get one of _those _onboard). With a long sigh, she stood up and followed the crew out of the room.

"We have a heavy raider out there ma'am," Athena explained as they followed Helo, Starbuck and Racetrack out of the building, "it's FTL drives are much more advanced than the Colonial Raptor. We can make it back in less jumps, which should shave off alot of time."

"That's good," Laura replied slowly, smiling at the thought of reaching Colonial One soon and sitting in her office chair, "a nice journey home."


	23. Chapter 23

Lee sprinted down the corridor, his eyes set on the target in front. There was a large hatch, slightly rusty, which hid his objective. Behind that one door was the last fuel leak. The captain of _The Pandora _had taken over from where Lee's father had cut off, shouting to the passengers aboard that a Cylon Basestar had jumped into range. _Just one more leak and we can take this godsdamn ship with us, _Lee thought deserately, his breaths coming in short gasps.

"Over here! Frakking _move!_" He shouted over his shoulder, catching the coloured blurs of the marines behind him.

They were only a short distance from the door when a man suddenly appeared from behind it. He spun and securely locked the hatch, before standing in front of it, his arms crossed. Lee slowed his pace, regarding the man warily. He wasn't armed, he could see that much.

"Open the door." Lee ordered, holstering his pistol slowly. The marines behind also lowered their weapons, their eyes fixed on the potential target in front.

"I can't do that i'm afraid." The man replied, smiling. He didn't move and Lee's patience ebbed away. They were on borrowed time as it was, he couldn't have this man stop him.

Lee's earpiece crackled, making him jump slightly. It had cut out a while ago.

_"Apollo this is Galactica Actual," _Adama's voice resounded in his ear, _"get off the frakking ship! that is an order!"_

"This is Apollo. Just outside door to last leak. Will fix it and get off ASAP."

_"Lee," _Adama sounded furious, _"think! It takes too long! If you leave right now you'll have a chance! We can only hold the basestar off for so long, don't waste your time!"_

"We _need _this ship, Admiral! Relay the coordinates to it at least! We may have time to fix it after the Jump. The basestar will be too concerned with the damage you've done to follow us for a little while."

_"Fine," _his father replied shortly, _"just get off the frakking ship."_

Lee wanted to argue back. Surely if they were going to continue repairs then it would be easier for Lee, the marines and the engineers to stay on _The Pandora_. A bang echoed from close by and Lee felt the whole ship shake, sending them all into the bulkhead.

"Acknowledged," Lee said, steadying himself on his feet, "Apollo out."

He took one look at the man in front, before calling over his shoulder to his marines.

"Back to the raptor!"

The marines nodded their assent and hurriedly pushed the small engineer back the way they came, back to their flight off of this ship. Lee turned his attention back to the man in front, who continued to stand casually and smile.

"See you soon," Lee said, before turning around and walking away. As he did so, he muttered, "frakking sympathiser."

Lee broke into a run and disappeared up the corridor. The man just stood, obviously amused.

"Who said i was a sympathiser?" He called out to the empty corridor.

....

"Tell the vipers to engage the enemy," Adama called out to Dee. She nodded and started muttering fast instructions to the fleet's only defence, "Gaeta! fire main batteries."

"Yessir." Gaeta turned back to his console.

Adama looked up at the Dradis, his eyes sweeping over the small symbols. The vipers were on there, moving rapidly towards the small dots that were Cylon Raiders. A large red dot pulsated dangerously. The Cylon Basestar. It was close to a green dot, that seemed to be blinking rapidly, desperately. At least, that's how Adama saw it. _The Pandora _was taking alot of hits. He couldn't have left Lee on that ship. He needed him back on the Galactica, where he knew it was alot safer.

"Sir, they're launching missiles!"

"How many!?" Saul Tigh roared, looking at Gaeta.

"Too many for us to handle." Adama muttered quietly to himself. He realised that Tigh must have heard him, because his attention snapped to the Admiral and his good eye widened considerably.

"Frak," Tigh swore, "we need to Jump, Bill."

"The main battery should intercept some of the missiles. We can hang on for one more minute."

Both the men fell silent, listening intently to the sound of the alarm around them and the echoes as Galactica was hit. The pilots were yelling to eachother, trying to keep some sort of formation. One of the pilots suddenly screamed and their comm cut out.

_"frak! We've lost Buster!"_

Adama hung his head and gripped the console in front.

"We need to get out of here!" Tigh shouted, looking to Adama, hoping the man could see sense.

"Sir," Dee called out, "Apollo is on a raptor and away. ETA two minutes."

"We can't hold them off for that long," Tigh informed him, restraining from shouting again, "relay the Jump coordinates to the raptor, let them make their own way there."

Adama thought about Tigh's request, weighing it up. On one hand, they could escape still intact and with the Fleet, at the chance of never seeing the President, Kara and the rest of the crew again. However, if they stayed then the Galactica could possibly be destroyed. He hated being practical about it, but Tigh was right. He didn't know _when _Laura's raptor would return, but he couldn't risk the lives of everyone aboard his ship for 6 people.

"Dee! relay Jump coordinates to Apollo's raptor and _The Pandora. _Tell _The Pandora _to Jump when we Jump. Recall all Vipers. Gaeta, spool up FTL drives."

"Yessir." The two crew members said in unision, setting to work.

"You're doing the right thing here, Bill." Tigh muttered to the Admiral, seeing the distress on his otherwise unreadable face.

"I know." It didn't stop him from hurting though.

"All vipers are in and boards are green." Dee stated, glancing at Adama for further instructions.

"Begin Jump count."

Dee turned back to her controls and inserted the Jump Key.

"Jumping in five."

Adama looked once more at the Dradis Console, wishing more than anything for a sudden green symbol to appear. Would they even be off of Caprica by now?

"Four."

Maybe they were on their way and just as they Jumped in, Galactica Jumped out. He couldn't bear the thought of that happening, of the crew and Laura being stuck out in the middle of nowhere.

"Three."

Worse still, what if they came back to the basestar? They would be wiped out in mere seconds.

"Two."

Either way, they would surely die and Adama felt his chest constrict. He needed to give them more time, he knew he did. They _would _make it back here, but the basestar wasn't letting up, continuing it's flurry of attacks against the ship.

"Hold the Jump!"

There was a muted hush from the crew, broken by the sound of the Condition One alarm. Adama wondered who had ordered the Jump hold, but as he looked around he saw everyone looking towards him, confused. Dee was poised at her controls, unsure of what to do. It was then that Bill realised who had spoken. He had. Tigh looked frustrated, his gaze fixed on the Dradis Console.

Bill hung his head, breathing heavily. He couldn't do it, he couldn't Jump the Galactica, not when the crew were still out there.

"Frak," he muttered to himself. His head felt like it was about to explode, "frak it."

"Dradis Contact!" Gaeta suddenly shouted, his eyes wide in alarm.

Adama looked at Gaeta quickly, and Tigh mirrored his actions. Could it possibly be that Laura and the crew were back?

"Cylon Heavy Raider on approach, bearing 224 carom 642. On intercept course!"

"It's gonna board us!" Tigh shouted furiously, "probably alerting more frakking Basestars!" His voice turned softer as he looked at Bill's defeated exression, "it was a hope in hell, Bill."

"I know," Adama sighed, before looking up, "Dee, continue-"

"-Sir, the heavy raider is giving colonial recognition codes."

"What?" Tigh looked towards Dee, alarmed.

"It's requesting a connection."

"Put it through on the speakers." Adama replied quickly, looking up at the symbol of the heavy raider on Dradis. It was heading straight for Galactica at a fast pace. It seemed to be be avoiding the other Cylon raiders and the Basestar.

_Galactica this is -arbuck. requesting -mission to boa- we have the -esident on -rd."_

Adama listened intently, trying to put words together. The connection kept cutting out and the transmission was all over the place.

_"I repeat. -s is Starbuck. -equesting permis- board. - have President onboard."_

Starbuck. It was Starbuck. She had the President on board.

"Well i'll be ..." Tigh whispered next to him, slightly awed.

Bill just wanted to close his eyes and comprehend what was happening, but a faint bang echoed throughout the ship and CIC shook. He snapped out of his reverie and picked up the phone in front.

"Starbuck, this is the Admiral. Permission to land granted. Board ASAP."

_"-owledged Galactica. -arbuck out."_

Galactica took another hit, and the crew members quickly tried to regain balance. Adama gripped the table in front to steady himself. Just a few more seconds ...

"Sir, both Apollo's raptor and Starbuck's raider are onboard! _The Pandora _has Jumped too."

"Good. Begin Jump count."

"Jumping in five, four, three, two, one. Jump."

Bill felt the same detached feeling of being squeezed round the chest and the Galactica Jumped away, leaving the Cylon missiles to whistle through empty space.


	24. Chapter 24

"Jump completed!"

"Report!"

Gaeta scanned the screen before him.

"Fleet are checking in."

"Take your time, Lt. Get it right."

"Yessir."

Adama waited patiently for Gaeta to get the correct count. He would then order Apollo's raptor back out immediately to make the final repair to _The Pandora. _He didn't want the basestar showing up again anytime soon.

"Gutsy call," Tigh turned to him, "did you know that it was them?"

"No," Adama shook his head, "we just got lucky."

"S'about time we got some of that." Tigh smiled slightly.

"Sir, we're missing a ship!"

Tigh's smile dropped from his face almost as soon as it appeared. Adama looked around to Gaeta, steeling himself.

"What do you mean we're missing a ship!?" Tigh shouted, "how the frak did we miss one!?"

"It's _The Pandora, _sir. It's not checking in and it's not appearing on Dradis."

"Did we relay the coordinates to them?" Adama asked.

"Yessir."

"They took the _right _coordinates? There was no error in transmission?"

"No sir. They repeated the coordinates back to me to make sure. They were the correct coordinates."

"Then where the frak are they!?" Tigh asked, casting an accusing eye at Gaeta.

"Drop it, Colonel." Adama looked wearily over his shoulder at Tigh, who was immediately silenced.

"Your orders, sir?" Gaeta asked, studiously ignoring the fuming XO who was glaring at him.

"All that trouble for nothing," Bill muttered to himself, suddenly feeling very tired, "Colonel Tigh has the deck."

Tigh nodded and stood up straight, watching the crew like a predator watches it's prey. Adama walked out of CIC and towards the Hangar Deck.

....

Laura stepped unsteadily out of the Heavy Raider. She was used to being in a Colonial Raptor, not in this ... _thing. _She knew that she probably looked an idiot, not at all very Presidential. It didn't help that half the deck crew stood there curiously to greet her. She looked at the faces, scanning the small crowd for anyone she knew. Athena gripped Laura's arm and helped her onto the deck.

"Thankyou." She said to Athena earnestly, before smoothing her creased and dirty jacket out in a futile attempt to make herself look more presentable. She quickly glanced up to make sure no-one was really focused on her (the deck crew seemed to be in awe of the Raider) and caught the bright blue eyes of Admiral Adama.

He was standing at the front of the crowd, his hands clasped in front of him and a smile tugging at his lips. Laura knew she must look a mess and that was the source of his amusement, but she didn't care. he was there, right there. As if sensing her thoughts, he took a few steps forward, slowly making his way over to where she was rooted to the spot.

His eyes travelled over her, taking in everything. She looked like she had been dragged through a bush backwards, but Adama didn't care. There was a smile on her face and her eyes were shining with humour. To him, she could not have looked more beautiful. However, as he focused more on her face, he noticed that her skin was paler than usual and she looked exhausted.

"Madam President." He said softly, his hands gripping her arms in a comforting gesture.

"Admiral." She replied, still smiling. Her own hands came up and copied his actions. It was an intimate gesture under the spotlight of the crew. He couldn't outright draw her into a hug or anything remotely as personal, so he settled for holding her arms. She understood the gesture and reciprocated, knowing that this couldn't be construed as an illicit affair by the Press.

His eyes once more travelled over her face and Laura inwardly cringed at the sight she must be.

"You should see Doc Cottle." He murmured, his brow furrowed in concern. The fact that she missed taking her anti-radiation meds must have been more obvious than she first thought.

"Of all the things i wanted to hear on getting back, that is not one of them." Laura grimaced jokingly, and Bill smiled.

"If you would follow me to Sick Bay, Madam President?" He released her arms and offered his own for her to take. It looked like she wasn't getting out of seeing Cottle. She let out a sigh.

"Lead on, Admiral." She said, her hand clutching his arm tight.

....

Lee stretched as he got out of the Raptor. He had just been told over the comm. by Colonel Tigh that _The Pandora _hadn't made the Jump. Lee didn't ask any questions, but the fact that the source of all the trouble just happened to accidentally not have made the Jump was more than suspicious. However, Lee couldn't possibly imagine his father being behind it, he had become too close to the President to risk any of the fleet. Plus, morally, he knew that Bill Adama would not have actively seeked to leave _The Pandora _behind by sabotaging the Jump coordinates. Colonel Tigh on the other hand ...

Lee shook his head, unhappy with where his accusations were taking him.

"Hey Apollo!"

Starbuck's voice rang out from a couple of metres away and Lee turned to meet her.

"Like my _new _souvenir?" She asked, her eyes alight with humour.

"The other smaller Raider just not good enough Starbuck? you had to bring _this _monstrosity onto the Deck?" Lee called back, smiling at his friend's relaxed attitude after the ordeal they'd all just been through.

Kara feigned hurt and turned to the Raider, her hand brushing the metal in a soothing gesture.

"There, there, he didn't mean that."

Lee strode over to her, shaking his head. It was truly amazing that Starbuck had come back alive at all, but to do it laughing and joking, now _that _was certainly something.

"Kara." he drew closer and focused on her face. He narrowed his eyes, looking at her with concern. Kara suddenly felt her stomach turn to lead and wondered what he was thinking. Did she have something wrong with her, was she ill? The smile was wiped off of her face and Kara was immediately wary.

"What?" She asked, dreading the answer. The look in Lee's eyes was enough to have her pronounced dead.

"You look like hell." He finally said.

It took Kara a few moments to react. Her thought process was sluggish and by the time every word had registered, Lee was grinning widely at her. Kara felt her mouth open slightly. He was joking, the little frakwit was joking with her!

Her hand automatically came up and she smacked him on the shoulder, hard enough to get a resounding "ow!" from him, but not hard enough to dislocate it (she just couldn't catch a break).

"Up yours Apollo!" She snapped, though her lips betrayed her and a smile broke out. It really was an infectious attitude.

"I see you brought the President back safe," he turned his head and watched as his father guided Laura away, probably to his quarters, "that's another skill badge i guess."

"I'll sew it on as soon as i get back to my rack," Kara replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes, "i'll put it right next to my 'kicking Lee's ass' badge."

"Very funny," Lee replied, "so I see Athena, I see Helo, I see Racetrack. Where's Burgundy? don't tell me he's sound alseep in the Raider."

He noticed the smile drop off of Kara's face and suddenly Lee didn't _want _to know where Burgundy was. The atmosphere was suddenly tense, as Kara hunted through her pockets and Lee awaited the answer. He got it. Kara drew out dogtags, stained with blood. She threw them at him, not even able to look at them properly. Lee caught the dogtags deftly and his thumb smoothed over the name and number imprinted on them.

He cleared his throat, trying to dispell the tension. It didn't work.

"You all did good Starbuck," he reassured her gently, "i'll put his picture up on the wall."

Kara just shrugged and turned around. She walked off, her back straight. Lee sighed to himself, and continued to look at the dogtags, hating nothing more than losing a pilot and a friend.


	25. Chapter 25

"Well, it sounds like you had some fun without us." Laura said softly, after listening to Adama's story of the events that had unravelled without her there.

"You could say that." He replied, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a sip of Ambrosia. Laura smiled slightly, before drinking her water. It wasn't as good as Ambrosia, but Cottle had told her to drink only water until she was back to full health. He was definitely not happy to see her in Sick Bay, looking that ill. After continuous curses, admonishments, injections and cigarettes, he'd finally disharged her, telling her to get plenty of bedrest and fluids. He assured Bill that she would be fine after a few days.

Bill was sitting on the edge of his rack, nursing the glass of alcohol in his hands. Laura was perched up with various cushions and pillows Bill could procure from around his quarters, resting comfortably in his rack. He had insisted that she lay down as soon as she get back, but she was reluctant and wanted to hear everything, from the daily rationing to the Cylon Sympathisers. They had comprimised, and this resulted in their current situation.

Laura finished the last of her water and reached her arm out to put it down on the small table next to her, but Bill tugged it out of her hand.

"Let me get that for you." He said, and carfeully put it down.

Laura smiled her thanks, and slowly started to ease down, clutching at the blanket draped over her. She let out a long sigh and Bill turned to look at her again.

"I should probably go see Verus soon. We need to work out something between us and the Sympathisers. They're getting out of hand Bill. They didn't listen first time around it seems, so i need something more than just words this time around."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that, Laura," Bill replied solemnly. Laura looked at him, her eyebrows rising questioningly. "_The Pandora _didn't make the Jump."

"Was there something wrong with the coordinates?" Laura asked.

"The coordinates checked out fine. We don't know what happened."

"My gods, there were over 200 souls aboard that ship," Laura took a deep breath, not wanting to get worked up over it, "i think i'm going to need something smaller than a whiteboard soon to keep the population count."

"Like what?"

"I was thinking post-it notes." She replied softly, closing her eyes.

Bill laughed quietly, rubbing his face with one of his hands. Laura gave a small smile at his laughter, but couldn't get the thought of about 200 people dying out of her mind.

"Verus won't understand," She said quietly, "he'll blame us of course. If the Press get wind of this..."

Laura trailed off as she heard Bill's sigh and opened her eyes. He was studying his glass in front.

"Bill," she asked, trying to get him to look at her, "what is it?"

He was silent for a minute, obviously arguing with himself over whether he should tell her what was on his mind. Bill then turned slowly and looked at Laura.

"When Tigh called about ten minutes ago," He said, and Laura nodded slightly at the memory. Bill was on the phone to Tigh for a good five minutes, his expression as inscrutable as ever, "he reported that Verus was found dead in his cell. The guard was unconscious."

"Murdered?" Laura asked.

"Looks to be that way," Bill nodded, "We can open up an investigation, but to be honest, there is no way of limiting down the amount of suspects except through setting up a tribunal. You can understand my reluctance."

"Yes, yes i do." Laura replied, "this fleet just isn't happy unless everyone is killing eachother."

"Did you find what you were looking for on Caprica?" Bill asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"I found her."

"Did she have anything to say? Are we heading into a trap at all?"

Laura thought back to what the woman had said to her, and repeated it back to Bill.

"'A disease, once cured, twice inflicted'?" Bill asked, his brow furrowed in concern, "she doesn't mean-"

"-my Cancer?" Laura finished his sentence, "i don't think so. Cottle gave me a check-up just a few weeks ago, not to mention when i went to him today. He would have found something."

"She can't mean that," Bill shook his head, unwilling to even comprehend that Laura's cancer had returned, "she must mean something else."

Laura didn't answer him because she knew deep down that it probably was her Cancer making an unannounced return. Her coughing fits, her recent bouts of weakness, illness. There was only so many times she could pass it off as a cold.

"I don't know what the rest of it means," Adama carried on, oblivious to Laura's train of thoughts, "an unmarked Viper, an eye ..."

"I don't know either," Laura replied, her mind straying back to the conversation, "that's all she said."

Laura said the last few words so faintly that Bill looked at her, worried that she was suddenly going to disappear before his eyes. A stupid thought, he told himself. Laura Roslin was really there, in person.

"Something wrong?" He asked softly.

Laura made a noise in the back of her throat.

"Burgundy died for that," she whispered sadly, "he reminded me of Billy, you know. Both so young, full of life."

Bill couldn't tear his eyes away from her. He knew how much Billy's death had hurt her. He was the only thing closely resembling a family that she had and Bill's calculated risk had taken the young Aide away, so early on in his life.

"He died fulfilling his oath to protect the articles of Colonisation," Bill assured her, "his orders were to protect you and you're here alive. He accomplished his mission Laura and that's all we could have asked of him."

Laura closed her eyes again, realising that Bill was right. However, she still couldn't stop thinking about the young man who was regaling her with stories of his times in a Viper and the rescue off of New Caprica.

"You timed your arrival pretty well." Bill said, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Laura said, trying valiantly to push the current conversation to the forefront of her mind, over the deaths of the many people, "i was surprised you were still there. The basestar was nearly successful in taking you out."

"I refused to Jump." He stated, looking from the glass in his hands to Laura.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but she didn't say anything. Best to let Bill get it all off of his chest.

"I would rather risk my entire ship and it's crew than leave you, Kara, Athena, Helo, Racetrack and Burgundy behind." He sighed and looked out across his quarters, ashamed with himself for stopping the Jump and endangering everyone's lives. He didn't regret seeing Laura and the crew that went with her, he just hated the fact that he had put everyones lives at risk for his own personal weaknesses.

"Bill," Laura said softly, trying to grab his attention, "Bill, look at me."

He relucantly obeyed, his eyes locked on her face.

"Anyone would have done the same in your situation- let me finish," She spoke over Bill's objections, "the crew will not hate you, Colonel Tigh will not hate you, no-one is going to take a second look at the decision. You did it, we are here now. That's the end of it. Am i making myself clear Admiral?"

"Yes Madam President." He replied, smiling slightly. She could not look any less presidential than she did right now.

"It's still bothering you though, isn't it Bill? Tell you what, I promise not to go on any more missions without you there personally. Is that adequate?"

"I'm going to hold you to that." Bill muttered, reaching over and placing his empty glass on the table next to hers.

"I don't doubt that you will." Laura said, smiling. She felt a yawn build up in her and tried to stifle it with the back of her hand. Bill saw, however.

"You need to rest now, Laura."

"Yes sir." She whispered playfully, her eyes already closing. It was really quite comfortable in his rack, much better than the sofa that masqueraded as her own bed. Bill insisted that she stay on the Galactica tonight and offered her his own bed as there were no guest quarters available. She had argued against it, saying she would travel back to Colonial One, but he was stubborn. He didn't want to let her go when he had just got her back.

"Goodnight Laura." Bill slowly got off of the rack, before moving over to his sofa. He had placed out some pillows and a spare blanket for himself there.

"Goodnight Bill." Laura said, before succumbing to sleep. That night there were no nightmares, no visions of a Prophet. There was just her and Bill, laughing and having drinks in his quarters.


	26. Chapter 26

Tom Zarek sat down in his usual chair on the _Astral Queen. _Laura Roslin had returned to Olympus, alongisde Zeus where she belonged, and Tom had gone back into storage. A puppet Vice President who was ignored by the military and only got out of the box when the President wasn't there.

He didn't mind though, really. He always got his own way in some form or another. There would be a day when he would be heard by Roslin and Adama, but he was a patient man. He could wait for the day, bide his time before he could exact some sort of revenge on the two who shunned him. He had done it before, so many connections, so few places to hide.

It had worked with _The Pandora. _Tom smiled widely, reclining in his chair. Now _that _was something. Just one call, one man who was loyal enough to die for a just cause. Tom had one on every ship, he just needed to ring. His following wasn't just limited to the prison ship he was on. Not at all.

The man on _The Pandora _was more than happy to oblige the Vice-President. It was simple really. Change one number in the coordinates, end up somehwere else completely. When Zarek had told him what to do, the man was more than happy. According to sketchy reports from various sources, he had gone one step further and had even stopped the young Adama from fixing the last fuel leak. No doubt the Cylon Sympathisers were suffering. The Cyons would be tracking them, slowly destroying them piece by piece. Tom laughed at the mere thought. Being killed by the one thing you're fighting for, now _that _was irony.

Admiral Adama and President Roslin were both none the wiser as to what happened to _The Pandora. _They had absolutely no idea who was behind it. He had saved them, really. He would get no thanks for it, nor did he expect any, even if he did tell them what had occurred. No doubt Roslin would admonish him, strip him of his title for letting that many people die in such a horrible way. He didn't care about praise from the two leaders though. Just the thought that he had got his revenge and Adama was completely baffled by it was enough to keep Tom happy.

Thre would be a time when he would tell them of what he did, but now wasn't it. Verus wouldn't be talking anytime soon either. Another work of magic, he had decided. The arrogant leader had thoroughly annoyed him when he had pointed his gun at him. Now no more.

Tom sighed and loosened his tie. Revenge was sweet.

**A/N**

**And finished!**

**Ok so, aside from the glaring mistakes and few plot holes, what did you all think? haha! It was just a little story i came up with when i was bored, please tell me what you think! **

**In the words of a famous fictional President: that is ........................ all.**


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